Twenty Seven - Hunger Strike

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Xavier

The smile on the man's face tells me he's been expecting me, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners as his thin lips shoot beams of pride towards me. 

"I'm sorry I'm past the curfew, sir, but --"

"Welcome back, Xavier," he says instead, reaching out and placing a broad hand on my shoulder. He gives me a gentle squeeze, massaging away some of my worry with a single touch.

This is what fathers feel like.

I know because my own was just like this.

"Come on in, she's been waiting for you," he says, dropping his hand from my shoulder and turning away. "Oh, and please ..." he turns back to look at me, a slight smile still on his face. "... you can stop calling me sir now. Elias is fine."

"Yes, sir -- I mean, um ..." 

As nice as the gesture is, calling Haley's father by his first name isn't something I feel comfortable doing just yet. 

Thankfully, he doesn't insist, turning around and walking into his house as if expecting me to follow him. I do, closing the door softly behind me and latching it shut. I watch Haley's father begin to ascend the stairs, nodding towards me over his shoulder, and I take that as his indication that he wants me to follow him. I do just that.

Elias stops in front of the door I know belongs to Haley's room. I was here for the first and only time not so long ago.

It feels like so long has passed since that night.

So much has changed.

I have changed.

"Haley, dear?" the man next to me calls through the door, tapping his fist against the wooden surface.

"Go away," is the answer.

I don't know what to think; Haley has never spoken like this to her father before. No matter how many rules he sets or how many times he interrupts us by reminding us of his ten o'clock curfew, Haley has always been so cool about it. At least she acted cool, even if I could see her flushing red with frustration.

"Come out, you have a visitor who --"

"I'm not talking to you, go away!" she yells through the door.

Elias rolls his eyes, giving me a weary smile before knocking again. He waves a hand towards the door and takes a step back as if letting me take the lead.

My breath catches in my throat. Dealing with an uncharacteristically angry Haley is one thing, but having to do it with her father watching is a whole another level of panic-inducing. Maybe I should just turn around and leave. Maybe sleeping on the stairs outside my apartment doesn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

My plans go out the window when I hear a sniff from the other side of the door.

Haley is ... crying?

"Haley?" I speak up without putting a thought into it.

I hear a gasp, a scuffle, and the sound of hasty feet thudding softly on the carpeted floor. Within a split second, the door jerks open, revealing a bleary-eyed and clearly disheveled Haley. Her cheeks are flushed -- probably from crying -- and her eyes wet, but the widening of her eyes tells me she was not prepared to find me here.

She stares at me in shock for a brief moment, and I stare back, unable to believe she would be such a mess ... because of me?

"Xavier!" She throws her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. 

Before I can react, she pulls away.

"I hate you," she snaps at me, close to tears again as she punches my chest halfheartedly before wrapping her arms around me again.

Despite the strangeness of the entire situation, I'd be lying if I say I mind it one bit. I close my eyes, and for a blissful moment, she takes me over completely. Her vanilla scent fills my windpipe and lungs, her warmth permeating through my skin as I breathe deeply, focusing on nothing but the feel of her so close to me.

Suddenly nothing else matters. Only her.

"I was so worried," she mumbles into the front of my shirt, her voice broken and muffled. "You didn't reply and I ... I didn't know what to think. What if your dad ... Xavier, how could you?"

"I'm sorry," I say without a beat. I mean it.

Seeing her now, I wish I had never even put an inch's distance between us. The last thing I wanted to do was make Haley cry.

I want her to smile, to be happy, and to always glow the way she naturally does. Everything about her calms me, the blush in her cheeks when she says something silly, the awkward frown on her face whenever she can't figure out what to say, the adorable embarrassment that flashes across her face when she tries to play it cool but fails.

Haley makes things better. She makes everything better. And I want to do the same for her.

"I'm so sorry," I repeat, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and holding her steady against my chest. I bury my nose in her hair, taking a whiff of her flowery shampoo.

"Don't do it again," she says, not moving.

"I won't. Promise." 

This is not a promise I planned on making. I didn't come here to give her my word about sticking around when I can't possibly give her that. I only came here to tell her that I might not be around for a while. I came to tell her that I might move out of the city for a while, just to avoid being put in foster care.

"I missed you."

Her words sink into my skin, soothing every sore muscle in my body and filling me with a warmth I can't explain. All the stress and worry that has been resting on my shoulders for the past three days suddenly sprouts wings and floats away into nothingness, far away from Haley's presence. 

At this moment, nothing seems to be able to pull me down. Not the fact that I lost my mom a mere three days ago. Not the fact that my stepdad has mysteriously disappeared, arousing suspicion that he might have something to do with my mom's death. Not the fact that I might be sent to a foster home and asked to stay in an orphanage for the next three months until I'm eighteen. Even the fact that Haley's father is standing a foot from us doesn't seem to dampen my spirits.

The only thing on my mind is that this girl cares about me. She -- truly, honestly, selflessly -- cares about me. Me, of all people. Me who is far from charming, confident, or sweet. Me who can't bring myself to tell her just how beautiful she is and how much she means to me. Me who is a complete and utter mess, and doesn't deserve anyone, especially not someone like her.

"I'll set the table," her father brings me back to reality with his polite yet slightly amused tone. "Maybe now that you're here, Xavier, Haley will finally stop her hunger-strike and have a bite to eat." 

Elias is already descending the stairs, his heavy footsteps fading with each step. Haley stiffens in my arms, and I pull back an inch, causing her to look up at me.

"Why haven't you been eating?" I ask her, feeling more guilty than surprised.

"Oh, please, it's not like you've been having three-course meals these two days," she says, rolling her eyes and pulling away from me. Even though she's acting like this stubborn child, I can see the blush rising in her cheeks.

"Not fair, Haley," I say.

She huffs and shakes her head so fast I'm afraid it might fall off, reaching out and grabbing my hand.

"We'll eat now," she says, tugging at my hand to pull me towards the stairs that lead downstairs.

I open my mouth to speak, but she doesn't give me a chance, already dragging me down to her kitchen. As she bounces down the first of the stairs, I pull her back.

Her eyes widen at the sudden action, and even I myself am surprised at my body having a mind of its own. I'm usually very subtle about what I want or need, but something about this moment doesn't demand subtlety. It demands action. It demands ...

That I kiss her.

So I do.

I pull her back by her hand, keeping my fingers wound tightly through hers, and hold her firmly by her shoulder with my free hand. Haley's eyes widen and she almost asks me what I'm doing. Whatever she sees on my face silences her, and she drops her gaze to my lips before returning it to my eyes.

The nod she gives me in response to my unasked question tells me I have her permission to carry out my wishes. Letting go of her shoulder, I let the tips of my fingers graze across her collarbone and up her neck. 

She shivers under my touch, her eyelids fluttering closed. She shifts slightly so that we're out of the sight of the stairs, and her back rests against the wall. I stand close to her, so close I can feel her warm breath on my lips, and hear her heartbeat in my ears.

That's when I kiss her, and she kisses me back. The kiss is sweet at first, growing passionate, desperate, and starving. My entire body responds to her warmth like she is the only thing it needs. As for my mind, it has stopped existing, packed up its bags and gone away on vacation. Thinking of nothing, I kiss her like I'm drowning and she's oxygen for my burning lungs. She is. I swear to God, she is.

My hands cup her face, hers clutch my shirt, and we forget to breathe. At least I do. 

"Dinner's ready," a voice calls from downstairs.

We don't break apart like I would have imagined us to. Instead, we freeze, until Haley lets out a breathless laugh against my lips. I smile, hesitating in opening my eyes. I don't want the feeling to go away so soon. I don't want the spell to break.

"Haley?" I whisper, our lips touching as I rest my forehead against hers.

She doesn't move, not even breathing. I don't speak until she grunts to push me. "Hm?"

"I missed you too," I say against her lips.

And once again, I mean it.

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