I didn't mean to break your heart. If I could fix it, even start, I would. But you're not home tonight.

Trying to remember the feeling of Alex's hands on my face, his lips on mine, his guarantee that he would come back to me...

I leave the Swap Meet, sparing a backwards glance to the ostentatiously large mansion. Even without the building crawling with Giovanni and wraiths, I still shudder and make my exit with haste. I know I don't have much time, so I put on an extra burst of speed. There's a small clearing in the surrounding woods. Not far enough to make me feel completely secure, but...desperate times.

My body falls into a torpid heap in the dirt. I don't bother looking down at it as I hurry across the astral plane, heading in the direction Alex's car went. I'm too late. I'm too late. After a few moments, I spot his Camry and follow it. The urge to pass, intangible, through the metal and fiberglass and stop him, beg him, or even just set eyes on him, makes my chest tighten painfully. I don't recognize the area he ends up in, but I recognize Rook. My heart drops, and I lose concentration almost enough to send me hurtling back into my body. I remember Rook's words last time we saw him.
"I still have to take you to the other side. Don't forget."

Why? Why is he going there? I promised that I wouldn't try anything against that crazy Fae guy. I promised, but he's here.
I watch Rook draw a door on the rock face. He knocks, speaks something I don't understand, and before I can do anything Alex and Rook are gone in a blinding flash of light. When I return back to my body, my eyes are still stinging. I climb to my feet with a small whimper that I'm barely aware of. Rubbing at my face, I swiftly escape the property. My thoughts are tumultuous as I try to rationalize what I just saw.

Rook told Alex he owed him a trip over the hedge, but if it was just that, why wouldn't Alex tell me?
The errant idea that this is his way of getting revenge keeps burning a hole through my thoughts. I don't wanna believe that he could be that spiteful, and yet I think of all I've put him through in this small amount of time since I met him. I flinch, and continue on my way.

The Barony is still quiet, Troy being in Vegas and the others at the Swap Meet. I enter Alex's quarters and breathe in. The air still smells of scorched brownies, but underneath, Alex's scent saturates the room.
I can't stay here without him. The other Anarchs...
My expression falters. I know the only reason they put up with me is because of Alex. I see their reluctance to have someone like me in an area that should be safe for them. Comfortable. Frowning, I grab my bag and stuff my knife and iPod in it. I see a wrapped package with my name in Alex's handwriting sitting on one of the tables and I set it lightly in my purse without opening it. Hesitating, I open one of the tubs in his room, pulling out a sweatshirt and putting it in my bag before leaving the room and the fairgrounds.

I ignore the drag in my feet as I make my way to my old house. I ignore the urge to head in the opposite direction. I ignore the need to do exactly what Alex feared and seek solace in Tommy and his cruelty. The old Victorian looms in my view, and even through my despair, I'm proud of myself. I close and lock the door behind me, choking in the musty smells.
I can be by myself. I can do this. I don't have to run to Tommy. I don't have to do anything. Alex is counting on me to be strong.

"Alex left you."
I jump, startled by the sound of my own voice. Pulling my bag closer to my chest, I enter the bathroom. The empty frame of the broken mirror shows nothing but a blank expanse of metal. The bathtub is still lined with a stained comforter and a flattened pillow. I set my bag on the floor next to the tub, and climb in.
"Alex left me."
I reach over the lip of the tub and pull out the package from his room. Running my fingers over his words, feeling the indent from the pencil he used, I open the box. It's an iPod, newer and sleeker than my own. There's already music on it, and I attempt a smile as I flip through and see some of the artists listed. A few unnamed files draw my attention, and I tuck the head phones into my ears, pulling the sweatshirt from my bag and drawing it into my lap. Pressing play, I hear Alex's voice coming through the small speakers.

It almost breaks me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I muster every ounce of my resolve, my muscles aching with the fight to stay where I am. My heart aching with the fight to not believe that he abandoned me. I turn the volume of the iPod to its maximum, and turning on my side, tuck Alex's sweatshirt under my head. Surrounding myself with his smell and his voice, I wait.
"He'll come back to me."

https://youtu.be/ZiRz94dPoHQ