nine

“my soul

just thinks your soul

is pure magic.”

When I entered Alastair's room, there was somebody else in there.

"Luce," I spoke up, but then realized eventually that I shouldn't have said that out loud. I think I shouldn't have just barged in either. But the door hadn't been closed and well, didn't you normally barge inside when the door's open?

Both Luce and Alastair looked at me and those were two gazes that could get unnerving within seconds. I felt myself squirming under the mere intensity, passing Luce a sheepish smile.

It seemed like I had perfectly interrupted a conversation. A therapy session?

"Lia, great, you're here." She passed me a tight-lipped smile and I figured that she seemed a little pissed. Was she pissed off because I'd come in here all unannounced? Or...

It took me a few seconds to conjure up the reason. She was probably just pissed at me because I was here at the sanitarium when I should've been resting at her apartment. Apparently, Luce seemed to get way more worried than my own mum when I fell sick. Perhaps that was why she hadn't woken me up when it was snowing this morning.

I took a glimpse at Alastair and he seemed to be already looking at me. I passed him a genuine smile, unlike the one Luce gave me a few seconds ago.

"Should I come back after a few minutes?" I asked Luce when she stood up from the armchair and closed off the file in her hands.

"I can...I can go by the vending machine," I added, afraid that I had interfered. Was this an awkward silence? God, I hated awkward silences. "You don't have to stop the session because of me. I can probably just go up to the office and you can call me when--"

"It's fine, Lia." Luce stopped in front of me, passing me a funny look. "Don't get too worked up about it." She patted my shoulder reassuringly before heading outside.

"On second thought." She stopped and passed me a pointed look. "Could you step outside for a few seconds? I need to have a little chat with you."

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her that I certainly wasn't being worked up about it, but she had already exited the room by then, closing the door softly behind her.

I glanced over at Alastair, ready to tell him that I'd be back in a short while, but I really didn't get a chance for that either. Not when the words just got...stuck in my throat.

Because he was smiling. He was smiling.

Well, not really smiling. But when I noticed one corner of his lips tugging upwards, close to a small breathtaking smile, I just stared at him. I had never seen him smile before.

God, be a creep about it, will you?

Was he smiling because I had been blabbering the shit out of myself?

I left the room with a heated face, willing for it to just stop.

"Why would you not listen to me?" Luce frowned at me the moment I stepped out. When I closed the door and faced her, I noticed the worry on her face and willed myself not to think about that near-smile on Alastair's face. "Lia, this is not healthy. You didn't even--"

"I'm fine, Luce," I told her. "Really. I felt so much better in the morning. I wouldn't have come here otherwise. You know that, don't you?"

The frown was still there but I saw her features softening a bit. "Fine, whatever. I shouldn't worry so much anyway. You're a grown-up now and you can take care of yourself."

"Yes."

"But you don't really act like a grown-up, do you?" She semi-glared at me. "I know why you came here. Do you think I'm a fool?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The snow, Lia. That's why you left the house. Don't tell me you went out in the snow with your cold!" She hissed right when another staff member passed by us, offering me a polite smile. It was a girl near my age and probably another volunteer.

Maybe I can make some decent friends here. I smiled back at the girl before looking at Luce.

"Of course, not." I was so lying.

"Why are you lying to me?" Luce looked like I'd stepped on her toe or something. That was one thing I had learned quick about my half-sister ever since I came here. She absolutely hated when anyone lied to her.

"I'm not--"

"You took him outside in the yard," She stated, cutting me off while pointing over at Alastair's door.

I closed my mouth shut and my eyes as well. It was exhausting trying to win this argument with her. How in the hell did she know everything?

"So what?"

"So what?" She repeated exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you before."

"It's not about asking me, Lia." She shook her head, the frown still there on her face. "It's not even about Alastair!"

"Oh." I let my shoulders slump in response. "I'm fine, though. I promise. I didn't even get to see the snow much. It stopped snowing right when we headed outside. You don't have to worry so much."

She opened her mouth, probably to lecture me some more, before closing it shut again. Letting out a sigh, she shook her head.

"You don't have to get so worked up about this," I repeated her words, which might have been on purpose. I hadn't really liked it when she said that to me earlier, not when I was just trying to break that awful silence.

She rolled her eyes and gave me one last look. "Did someone ever tell you how fucking hard it is to win arguments with you?"

I scoffed. "That's a bit rich coming from you."

She took a few steps back, ready to leave.

"And hey, aren't you not supposed to cuss in front of your little sister?" I asked her incredulously, even when we both knew who, out of the both us, went around cussing like a sailor.

Luce grumbled something along the lines of, "You. You're rubbing off on me. I'll tell Mum the next time she calls how much of a bad influence you're turning out to be."

"Hey now, no need to be so--"

She passed me another look at that. "Fuck off, Ophelia."

Not that name again. Not so out in the open. "Luce--"

"Meet me in the office when you're done." She cut me off on purpose, a small smirk on her lips. Then she spoke out louder than necessary, "Okay, Ophelia?"

For fuck's sake.

I heard her laughing as she pressed the elevator button, leaving me all on my own in the entire hallway. I couldn't help but frown. She knew how much I hated that name. She knew that but she still kept torturing me with it.

It wasn't nice.

Luce was sometimes even more annoying than Helen. And that was saying something since Helen was at the lowest in my favorite-siblings' list.

When I went back inside the room, Alastair looked up at me and I was a little disappointed to see no smile on his face anymore.

"How did it go?" I asked him, hoping I could easily lighten up the atmosphere, before sitting down on the armchair. "Your therapy session?"

I felt a little exhausted, now that I came to think about it. It had really been a long day, I realised and rubbed the nape of my neck with one hand. I leaned back in the chair and looked over at him.

"A waste of time."

How nice of him, I thought, trying not to chuckle. A smile still crept on my lips. He had that whole I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude going on all the time and it was a bit hilarious, even though it shouldn't have been.

"Why would you say that? Doesn't it help?" I asked him, lightly fidgeting with my sweatshirt sleeves.

He didn't reply and I took that as a topic he didn't want to discuss.

"Did you like it when your friends visited you?" I asked him softly, hoping that he wouldn't take that too as an intrusive question.

Alastair responded with leaning back against the bed rest and my eyes trailed down to his right hand, the ridden up sleeve in particular. He had changed into a long-sleeved shirt, thankfully not a t-shirt in this cold anymore. What was strange, however, was that there was no bandage around his wrist. Maybe someone took it off.

Had he taken it off?

"Why were they here?" Was what he asked.

"How would I know?" I shrugged and took off my sneakers. They looked beaten up, thanks to my wearing them almost everywhere. Pulling my legs up, I shrank back in the chair.

When I glanced back at him, I noticed he'd been staring and I tried not to squirm.

"You were talking with Maria."

I shrugged again. "She came to see you."

He narrowed his eyes at me then and I shrank back even further. I wasn't lying. Why did it seem like he thought I was lying?

"She wouldn't just come to see me," He replied.

I didn't think twice before asking, "Why?"

He seemed a little taken aback at that, almost as if he hadn't been expecting me to ask such a direct question. Maybe he expected that from everyone else, and maybe he didn't expect that from me.

Uh oh.

I noticed the frown way before he looked away. "That's none of your business."

I felt a little hurt at that. Of course, I did. But then I reminded myself that he probably didn't trust me enough. And that was fine. I didn't want to be forcefully trusted. That wasn't how trust worked. And maybe I wouldn't have trusted myself either if I were in his place.

"Oh," I murmured, my eyes wandering off to his hand once again. The left one this time. I remembered seeing the tattoo there, words inked across his wrist. I couldn't really see them now, not when they were hidden by his sleeve. "Okay."

I wonder what they meant. Those words that he had tattooed on his skin.

When the silence seemed to stretch on into one that felt a bit too painful to handle, I took out the Walkman from my pocket and straightened up, extending it out towards him. His eyes found mine once again and then lowered down to my hand.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't have come by the last three days," I told him, noticing the lack of sleep around his eyes. It saddened me a little. "But...here you go."

A small part of me thought that he wouldn't take it. Perhaps I had gone too far and he wouldn't even trust me with a Walkman now. But that didn't happen (thankfully) and he took the Walkman, his eyes still fixated on it.

"You were sick," he said.

"Yup."

He looked into my eyes and for once, I didn't really felt the need to look away. Perhaps I was starting to get used to it. "You aren't sick now?"

"No. It was just a cold. I'm fine now." I leaned back in my chair, loving the warmth of it. It was strange--something about this room. I sometimes found it warmer than any of the other hospital rooms.

Or maybe that's just because I felt more at ease here.

"Luce thinks otherwise, though," I told him with a sigh, even though he probably didn't even care. "She worries too much. Mum never worried this much."

I glanced up at him and noticed the way he was fidgeting with the earphones.

"Did your mom visit you?" I asked him, then realized that I probably shouldn't have. He hadn't seemed like he wanted to talk about any such stuff. And the first (and probably the last) time I had seen Mrs. Hawthorne, things hadn't seemed well between them.

Alastair looked up at me, a dark wisp of his hair falling over his forehead. God knows why I felt this sudden kick in my chest to lean closer and brush it away. Feel the softness of it.

I did everything to ignore it.

"She isn't my mother."

I tried hiding my astonishment. Was their relationship that bad?

"Oh, but still did she--"

"She's not my mother," He repeated with a frown. "She's my aunt."

I raised my brows in realization, but soon enough confusion took over. "But they said she's your mother. Why would they say she's your mother...when she's not?"

He leaned back and looked down at the Walkman.

"I wasn't ever close with my mother." He murmured. "And my aunt is...the only parental figure for me. I think."

I stared at him, at the small frown on his face. Even though he spoke it like he didn't care much, I noticed the reality behind those words. He did care. Though it didn't settle well with me. Did Luce know about this? Had she failed to mention this tiny detail on purpose?

"Oh," I murmured, looking away. "She must care about you a lot then."

I saw him trailing his fingers over the silver Walkman.

"Yes." The way he said it though, it didn't really sound like he agreed. "She can be annoying sometimes." I was pretty sure that wasn't meant for me to hear, judging by the way he almost whispered it to himself, but I heard it nonetheless, unable to keep the smile from my face.

"You should try to get some sleep now," I told him once his fidgeting increased a little. "I'll be right here...going through my phone." Like always.

I looked away from him then, trying to give him a little privacy (even though it wasn't much). I switched on my phone and found myself scrolling through random stuff. I didn't have any social media accounts so there was nothing really there for me to pass my time with. I had a few games installed, which again, were just boring.

Not too soon after, I found myself scrolling over to my latest text conversation with Steph. That's exactly when another text from her popped up on my screen,

Steph: you up?

I found myself immediately texting her back.

Me: yeah why?

Steph: isn't it nighttime there? Why aren't you asleep yet? Are you at the hospital?

I wasn't really surprised by those lines of questions. She always wanted to know more--something that we embarrassingly had in common.

Me: yeah, I'm at the hospital right now.

Steph: is your sister there too?

Me: yeah. But not here with me.

Steph: who are you with then?

Steph: lol that was tara, not me.

I smiled a little at that, then rolled my eyes. Why was it that they were always together? They barely hung out with me when I hadn't yet left for England.

Perhaps that was because I was a shit friend. Like I've always been.

I glanced over at Alastair and saw him looking quite peaceful than the fidgeting-Alastair a few seconds ago.

Me: someone.

Before she could've replied, I added in something else:

Me: it snowed today! Can you believe it?

Steph: sure as heck can't, you lucky bitch.

I laughed softly, mostly so that I won't interrupt Alastair.

Steph: anyways, tara and I were at the mall today. Came across Nora.

The smile on my face faltered a little and I leaned back into the armchair. Out of nowhere, I wanted to just hide. Hide from what?

Me: what about it?

Steph took her time to reply. It was probably just seconds, but it felt like ages. And as each second passed by, I felt my heart racing even more.

Steph: she was with her usual group of friends. I don't really know why but she asked us about you.

Steph: not really me, but tara. Tara and you used to be friends with her, remember?

I frowned before nervously biting the nail of my thumb.

Me: why?

Steph: I don't know. She sounded like she wanted to talk? we told her that you weren't here, in town.

I swallowed uneasily.

Me: what did she say?

Steph typed for a while, almost as if she was texting me a paragraph, and that only seemed to heighten my anxiety.

Steph: she, well,

Steph: nothing much

I read it twice, blowing out a small sigh and looking up at the ceiling. Steph was obviously lying. And Tara was right beside her. Was Tara asking her to lie? Tara knew, maybe that's why--

Me: Steph. Don't lie. Please.

She didn't really say anything after that and I almost really called her. It frustrated me a little. Why was she hiding it from me? Why did I even want to know?

Thinking about Nora wouldn't get me anywhere. And if I started thinking about her, I won't stop. Not right now. Not ever. Maybe Tara and Steph were right about hiding it from me.

They were hiding stuff from me.

Clenching my jaw, I briefly closed my eyes, feeling the sudden frustration morphing into sadness. I didn't like this one bit.

That's exactly when I heard a sharp intake of breath.

For one second, I thought it was me. But when I finally managed to get out of my jumbled-up thoughts, I realized that it certainly wasn't me. And there was only one other person in this room.

I opened my eyes and looked over at Alastair.

And he seemed like he had just seen a ghost.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I spoke up in a soft murmur before straightening up and pushing my phone aside, even when I felt it buzzing with another text.

He blinked and looked down at the Walkman. It was odd that he didn't really answer me, or even look my way, but then again, he did that most of the time.

That's not why I leaned a little closer towards him worriedly. It was him fisting his hands around the sheets and going completely pale in the face that alarmed me.

"Alastair?" I spoke up his name, hoping that he'd hear me. He wasn't even wearing the earphones anymore. Had something gone wrong?

He looked up at me and I froze a little. It was this something about his eyes, the scared look in them. No, not scared. Confused.

He held up the Walkman and stared at it. "Where did you get this?"

I could only stare back at him, mostly because I didn't understand what he was talking about.

"A...friend gave it to me. I told you that, didn't I?" I tried keeping the nervousness out of my tone, hoping that he would calm down. Was he panicking? Was I panicking?

He looked at me once again and my eyes widened a little. The grey in his eyes looked darker, almost black. Overwhelmed, I realised, it looked like he was fighting hundreds of emotions. So raw. So open. So giving.

He was scared.

"This music. I'm talking about the music." There was this urgency lacing his voice and it seemed to make me tongue-tied.

"I...I don't know," I stated, my eyes widening a little. "There are a lot of songs in there. My friend changes the playlist sometimes. Why?"

He wasn't looking at me anymore. I could see the way he was clenching and unclenching his jaw. I could see the way he furrowed his brows, almost as if in pain.

"Alastair?" He didn't look at me this time. The air around us felt tense and scary.

"Alas?" I whispered in concern.

His gaze snapped to mine and I felt my stomach knotting itself. Why was he looking at me like that?

"What's wrong?" I asked him. "Did something happen? You can tell me." I tried calming him down, but if not before, he was legitimately panicking now.

"No." He whispered, gazing down at the Walkman, the fear still visible in his eyes. He was starting to breathe a little heavily. "No."

I didn't know what to do. I was stunned into silence and I didn't know what to do.

It seemed like he was having a panic attack. How was I supposed to call any staff here before things got out of control?

Oh God, I am so not the person to handle such situations.

I remembered countless of nights surfing through the net, trying to find out ways to control panic attacks. And yet I couldn't remember any single one of those solutions right now. My mind had just gone blank with worry.

I scrambled up from the armchair and sat down on the bed, in front of him. And even though I placed plenty amount of distance between us, he still looked up at me with those scared grey eyes as if I was the threat here. Was I?

"Hey, it's all right, okay? You don't have to be scared of...me. Please." I slowly raised up my hands in a reassuring gesture but he seemed to shrink away at that. I felt my heart skipping a few beats.

I didn't know what I was doing. I think my hands were shaking. I was so so bad at this.

I glanced over at my phone. I could call Luce but she'd take time to get here. What if she was already with some other patient?

"Why didn't you tell me?" He spoke up in an almost accusatory tone, almost sounding angry at me.

"Didn't tell you...what?" My voice broke a little at the end, my eyes wide. I think I was panicking a little too.

"You know about this song. You know him." He murmured, his eyes darting around my face. His breathing seemed erratic. There was sweat beading across his forehead. And he was clutching the Walkman a little too tightly. "You know him but you didn't tell me."

What was he saying?

I leaned closer towards him and gripped his shoulders with wide eyes. "Alastair, you need to take deep breaths, okay? Do you hear me? Take deep breaths."

He looked back at me and our faces were just a few inches apart. I think I wasn't even caring about anything else at this point. I just wanted him to stop panicking so that I could stop panicking.

"But what if he's here?" He asked me in a scared whisper and I felt something like extreme, unbearable sadness enveloping my heart.

He looked so scared.

"I don't want him here. I don't know who he is. He's...just there. And I can't stand that." I almost pulled away, hearing the underlying pain in his voice.

What was he talking about?

"Alas, it's fine. He's...he's not here. I promise it's just me, Lia. I'm alone here, there's no one else in this room." Something tugged inside my chest when his eyes seemed to widen a little, as if realizing that I was right.

"I promise, there's no one else here besides us." I repeated, almost whispering this time, hoping he'd believe me.

I was still gripping his shoulders and my hands were slowly getting clammy with sweat.

"It's fine. Everything's all right. You're all fine." I told him, hearing the worry in my voice and stared right into his eyes. He didn't break away from the gaze. I could feel him trembling a little under my hands. Or maybe that was just my hands trembling.

What if calling any other staff would somehow make him spiral down all over again?

"You don't understand." He murmured.

"I don't." I agreed, gripping his shoulders tightly, just so that he could be rooted to something. "I don't understand. But I'm right here. I'm here for you."

"You're not." It was just a small whisper. And I felt the lump in my throat growing a little more when I saw his scared, lost eyes glossing over with tears.

Had I done this wrong? Oh God, why was I so stupid? I shouldn't have waited so long. I should've called someone.

"I-I can't do this." He whispered, his eyes darting across so many things at the same time. I saw him letting go of the Walkman. I saw him slipping away a little. That was the scariest part.

"No, no. Of course, you can do this." I spoke up once again. My throat felt choked up on words. My head was clouding over with various scary scenarios. And I was telling myself again and again that I needed to keep it together, keep him together.

I pulled my hands away from his shoulders and placed them on either side of his face, just so that he'd look at me.

"Listen to me, Alas. I'll help you. I promise. But I can't do it alone. You need to help me too."

I saw him swallow and the faraway look in his eyes faded just a little when they darted across my face. Then his eyes slowly settled on my own.

"How?" He asked in a small whisper. Confused, scared, sad.

I did my best to ignore the bizarre way my heart raced in my chest, and the unnatural ache I felt when I saw a tear slowly rolling down his cheek, stopping near my fingers.

I managed a wobbly smile at him. "We're both going to count till ten together. I'll help you by taking in deep breaths and you'll help me by doing the same. Okay?"

He still seemed lost. I ignored that and started counting slowly, loud enough for him to hear.

When I reached three, I felt him relaxing a bit, the tension loosening in his shoulders.

When I reached five, he wasn't clenching the bed sheets anymore.

When I reached seven, his face slipped out of my grasp and his head softly fell on my shoulder.

And when I reached ten, he was breathing all fine, and I think his heart wasn't hammering against my own anymore, and his hands were on either side of my waist, clinging onto my sweatshirt a bit too tightly.

I didn't complain.

He was holding onto me. And I was holding onto him. I think that was fine.

I let a few minutes pass by like that until my head was free from those numerous thoughts. Alastair still hadn't pulled away and I think he was asleep, still clinging onto me.

I blinked before slowly (and cautiously) picking up the Walkman, almost as if it might bite me.

Something in it had scared him into a panic attack, I told myself. I wouldn't be surprised if it bit me.

And when I took one of the earbuds to listen to the song he had been talking about, my heart skipped a few more beats.

It was that sad melody, the one I had heard Rowan playing in the library.

The melody that had struck me in the heart.

The melody that had scared Alastair so much.