Running Away

"I can't stay here," Serena whispered to herself, staring out the window as the city lights flickered beneath her. The words felt foreign, like they didn't belong to her, but they slipped from her lips before she could catch them.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, the weight of everything pressing down on her. Damian's threats, Alexander's loyalty, Elara's manipulations. It all felt like too much. Like the world was closing in on her, no matter how much she tried to fight it.

"I need to get out. I need space to think."

But the moment she said it aloud, a surge of guilt washed over her. Wasn't this exactly what she had promised herself she wouldn't do? Run away. She had sworn that this time would be different, that she would face her enemies head-on, but the fear was creeping back in, wrapping around her like a vice.

She closed her eyes, pressing her palms against the cool glass. Every part of her body screamed for her to flee, to leave this mess behind and start over somewhere new. Somewhere safe.

But where would that be?

Her mind flashed back to the last time she'd run away—when the betrayal had broken her so deeply she hadn't thought she could survive. She had packed her bags, fled to the farthest corner she could find, trying to escape the pain. But it had followed her. It always did.

Now, here she was again, on the precipice of flight. She could feel it in her bones—her survival instincts telling her to go before Damian got the upper hand. Before he could destroy everything she'd rebuilt.

"Why does it always come to this?" she murmured, feeling the sting of tears she refused to shed. "Why am I always running?"

The answer wasn't simple. It was tangled in layers of old wounds, scars that hadn't healed. Running had been her coping mechanism, her way of surviving the storm. But it was also a form of surrender.

And this time… this time surrender wasn't an option.

Hours passed, but Serena didn't move from her spot by the window. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The pull to leave, to get as far away from the danger as possible, was overwhelming. But each time she entertained the thought, Alexander's face flashed in her mind.

His voice echoed in her ears. "You don't have to do this alone."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drown out the memory of his words. But it was no use. Alexander was a part of this now, whether she liked it or not. She couldn't push him away, not when he had been the one person who had seen through her façade, the one person who had stood by her when she was at her lowest.

But how could she stay and risk pulling him deeper into Damian's web?

"I'm dangerous to him," she whispered. "I'm a liability."

Damian wouldn't hesitate to use her against Alexander, to twist the knife between them. And that thought terrified her more than anything else. She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't allow Alexander to get hurt because of her.

"He deserves better," Serena muttered, her voice cracking. "Better than the mess I've dragged him into."

But as soon as the words left her mouth, another voice rose in the back of her mind. A stronger voice. One that wasn't dictated by fear.

"You deserve better too."

The door to her apartment opened softly, the familiar click of heels against the floor breaking through her spiraling thoughts. Serena turned her head slowly, and there he was—Alexander, standing in the doorway.

His eyes immediately found hers, a mix of concern and something deeper etched into his features.

"You didn't answer my calls," he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with worry.

Serena looked away, guilt creeping up her spine. She had turned off her phone hours ago, needing to escape the barrage of questions and concerns from everyone around her. She hadn't been ready to face Alexander, not yet.

But here he was, and there was no running from him now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I needed… time to think."

Alexander stepped closer, his presence filling the room with a warmth she had come to rely on. He stopped just a foot away from her, his eyes searching hers for answers she wasn't sure she could give.

"You're thinking about leaving," he said, and it wasn't a question. It was a fact.

Serena didn't respond right away. She couldn't. Her throat tightened, and she felt the burn of tears behind her eyes. She had tried so hard to be strong, to convince herself that she could handle this. But standing in front of Alexander now, the weight of her internal battle was too much.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I'm scared, Alexander. Damian's threats, Elara's games, all of it—it's too much. I don't want to drag you down with me."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. Then, he reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and for the briefest second, she allowed herself to lean into it.

"You're not dragging me anywhere," he said, his voice firm but tender. "I'm here because I want to be. I'm not going anywhere, Serena. Not unless you want me to."

Her chest tightened, the emotion threatening to spill over. How was it that Alexander could make her feel so safe in a world that had always been so dangerous? How could he stand there, unwavering, when she felt like she was crumbling inside?

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered, her voice raw. "But I don't know if I'm strong enough to stay."

Alexander's hand moved to her chin, gently lifting her face so that their eyes met. "You're stronger than you think," he said, his gaze burning into hers. "But you don't have to be strong alone. I'm here. I'll always be here."

The sincerity in his voice shattered something inside her. The walls she had built, the ones that had kept her safe from the pain of the past, began to crack. She had been running for so long—running from her fears, from Damian, from the ghosts of her past—but for the first time, she realized she didn't have to run anymore.

She wasn't alone.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and Alexander wiped it away with his thumb, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

"What do you want, Serena?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she searched for the answer. What did she want? She had spent so long fighting, surviving, that she had forgotten what it felt like to simply want. To choose.

But as she stood there, with Alexander's hand still cradling her face, the answer became clear.

"I want to stay," she said, her voice shaky but resolute. "I want to fight back. But I'm terrified."

Alexander's eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against hers. "We'll face it together," he murmured. "You don't have to do this alone anymore."

His words wrapped around her like a lifeline, pulling her from the abyss of doubt she had been sinking into. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his presence seep into her, grounding her in the moment.

"I don't want to run," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Alexander smiled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek once more. "Then don't."

Later, as the night settled in and the city outside fell into a quiet hum, Serena lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The weight of Damian's threats still lingered, but for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel the overwhelming urge to flee.

She wasn't running anymore.

And as she closed her eyes, the last thought that crossed her mind was one of quiet resolve.

"I'm staying. I'm fighting. And this time, I'll win."

"Running away?" Alexander had asked, his voice steady, calm. "Or running toward something better?"

Serena's answer had been simple, but filled with newfound determination: "I'm running toward the truth."