"Did you just hit me with a fucking lamp?" He growls.

"What the fuck Alexander!" I yell, grabbing onto my heart. "You scared the living shit out of me!"

He scared the living crap out of me, I rush towards the end of the room and switch on the light. Alexander becomes bright and clear to me; I glance down to see him holding a packet of cold pees to his fist.

"What happened to you? Alexander your face-" I reach out to touch it, but he pushes my hands away, he opens the freezer and takes out another pack of ice before walking past me and into the office. I look down at the shattered glass but decide to follow him.

I enter the office and see him unzipping his hood, dragging it down his biceps. It felt like some sort of strip show, my jaw tenses as I move closer to him. His back faces me, the scars-the whip marks...his bac barely had any clear skin to it.

He pulls the first aid box from the wall and sets it onto the table, and once he turns my eyes widen. "Alexander-what happened to you?"

Alexander was bleeding, and I could tell he got stabbed twice because of the deep wounds.

I reach him now, analysing his stomach as he takes out a sharp needle with thread.

"I'm going to kill them all." He whispers, before pushing the thread into his skin.

He leans against the desk, not making a single sound of pain nor hurt.

I had no clue on what to do or say.

He breaks the thread after tying it and moves on to the other wound. "What happened?"

"You want to know what happened? I will tell you. I got jumped by ten fucking guys." He scoffs to himself, "and they couldn't even try to kill me properly."

I have never seen him this angry in my life, yet it was anger with a touch of sarcasm. Once he finishes stitching himself, he grabs the bandage and presses it onto the wound.

"You didn't even sterilise-"

"Don't teach me how to sew wounds Nova, I've been doing it since I was ten." He did not look at me once, I look up at his face and my eyes widen. They sliced half of his cheeks with the knife, I do not think he noticed.

"Why would they do that to you?"

"Because they fear me." Alexander whispers, he settles the pack of ice onto his fists and finally has the audacity to look me in the eyes.

"You know Nova, fear is a funny thing." He speaks. "Our fears can be triggered by real threats and by memories of threats and unlearning fears is difficult for humans. When we become aware that we are afraid, we must ask ourselves whether the threat is real or if we have begun to generalise fear and seek evidence to reinforce it rather than challenge it."

He tosses the ice pack aside and grabs the white bandage, he slowly wraps it around his fists.

"The wise allow fear to teach them but never fool them, because they are then free to learn, make better choices, and become fearless."

"So, how about you? Do you have any fears?" When I ask him, he gets up from his desk and grabs his hoodie. He slings it over his shoulders and zips it up, then slowly towers over me, raising my chin to meet his gaze.

It was as if he is hypnotising me.

"I fear you." What? "I fear you Nova, I fear the feelings you make me feel, the way you make me feel and why you make me feel this way." His thumb slowly brushes against my bottom lip, his nose brushes against mine and our lips hover over one another.

"Feel what way..." I was still pissed form earlier, but the words he is saying-they are doing something to my stomach.

"Like I need to protect you," In silence, we stood so close.

The faucet drips into the sink, each one reverberating like a cymbal around the room, but no one blinks or moves to stop it. There is no traffic or bird song outside, and it must be midnight—the time when today becomes tomorrow.

"I don't need you to protect me, Alexander."

"You don't know when I protect you Nova," he whispers.

His finger pushes a strand of my hair behind my ears, I gently grab onto his wrist to stop him from touching me any further. "I have to clean the mess you made." I grab my hoodie from the couch and walk away from him, but I stop by the door.

"You did it again by the way." He looks up. "You left, and I don't know if it has to do with you commitment issues or something but sort it out. You don't just kiss me when you like and walk off."

◾◾◾

A daughter of a killer.

It hurt more to think it as I look through the pictures of my mother, she was anything but a killer. I mean, maybe if I actually have the courage to read it then maybe I would have some sort of understanding on where everyone was coming from.

I shove it back into the box, and when I hear the dryer noises, I stand up and walk towards the kitchen. I open it and begin folding all of the clothes into the basket on the counter, pausing on my feet when my hand reaches for a specific shirt.

I held Alexander shirt.

Oh fuck!

My eyes widen and I grasp my mouth as I look around, is there any way to unshrink this? I walk out my apartment, leaving the door open as I knock onto Alexanders. I hold the shirt behind my back and wait for him to answer, once the door is creaked open...my eyes drop down to his body.

He wore a towel loosely around his waist, along with a bowl of cereal.

"Hey!"

"What did you do?" He accused.

"Why would you think I've done something? It's not like I've done anything, can I not just come and say hi to my favourite person in the world."

"What's that behind your back?" I look away before slowly taking out his shirt, "is that my shirt?"

"See, there was a bit of a problem-I washed it with my clothes and I completely forgot that it was being chucked in-"

"It's pink Nova, and four sizes too small." He walks in his apartment, and I follow after him, he sets his cereal down onto the counter and I lean against it.

"Colour doesn't define gender." I smile, "I think you'd rock pink..." I grab the bowl of cereal and take a spoonful of the cheerio's, Alexander walks to his room.

"Have you noticed that you always break or ruin my things?" He yells from afar; I slip my phone out from my back pocket and look at the email Mr Harold sent to everyone. Just as I was about to take another spoon, the bowl is ripped from my grasp.

"I wouldn't say that-I would say that, yes, I have noticed. But listen, at the end of the day-"

"Nova, stop talking shit."

"Okay." I immediately shut up. "I'll keep the shirt; it might actually fit me. Alexander, what do you do for a living?" I ask.

"I thought we covered this subject before."

"I'm being serious now." He chuckles, and that was the first time I have ever heard him release any sort of happy emotion. He settles the bowl into the sink and glances at me, he folds his arms over his chest.

"I'm an illegal heavyweight underground boxer, I kill for a living." He said it so causally, he said as if it was a normal job.

"So, the guys that came to-"

"I have a fight on Friday, my opponent sent out people to rough me up a little before it. He thought eleven guys would be enough for me." He opens his fridge, grabbing a bottle of Vodka, along with two shot glasses. He unscrews the lid.

"I want to come."

"Come where." He gulps it down, and I could tell he was taking it for the pain.

"To the fight."

The glass settles back onto the counter and Alexander slowly turns to me.