Alex's POV
He didn't know how long he drove.
His hands trembled. His pulse echoed in his ears. The scent of her still clung to his skin — vanilla, lavender, something impossibly soft.
She was still afraid of him.
That detail replayed like a sick mantra.
She'd kept her distance in the office, her fingers twitching near her phone like she wanted to call for help. As if he would hurt her.
As if he ever stopped hurting her.
He told himself he didn't come to scare her. He told himself he just wanted to talk. But the second she looked at him like that — like he was the monster under the bed and Adrien was the light in her window — something inside him cracked.
And now?
Now he was parked across the street from the school, engine off, rage simmering beneath his skin.
Waiting.
Watching.
Adrien.
There he was — coming down the front steps like he owned the goddamn place. Backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder, hoodie up, face tilted to the sun like the world had done nothing to hurt him.
Arrogant little bastard.
Alex's hands curled into fists in his lap.
Adrien had no idea what it meant to bleed for someone.
To ache. To beg.
He had no idea what Ava had survived — what she'd endured to keep him safe and soft and stupidly ungrateful.
Alex watched him walk, dragging his feet with that same infuriating swagger.
His swagger.
The kid even had his posture — head slightly cocked, like he didn't give a damn about authority. About rules. About the woman who waited outside the gates every single day just to see him walk out.
Ava.
She had loved Alex once. With everything she had. Until he crushed it.
And yet somehow, Adrien was allowed to be worse.
He was rude. Disrespectful. Cold.
And still, she kissed his forehead.
Still, she packed him lunch and said I love you even when he didn't answer.
Alex's chest twisted violently.
He'd yelled at her once — "Why are you always hovering?" — and she hadn't touched him for a week.
Adrien called her clingy and she just laughed.
"Guess I love you too much, huh?"
Alex nearly screamed.
He pulled his cap lower over his eyes and started the car, crawling slowly behind Adrien at a distance.
Stalking him.
He told himself it wasn't stalking. It was… curiosity. A need to understand. But the truth itched under his skin like rot.
He wanted to see how far this joke went. How much love Adrien could waste before she finally stopped giving it.
Spoiler: she wouldn't.
Adrien stopped at a roadside bench and slumped into it like he carried the weight of the world, even though he had everything handed to him.
Alex parked across the street. Kept his window cracked. Watched.
Adrien pulled out his phone. Scrolled. Ignored the world.
No gratitude. No awareness of what he had. The luxury of being loved when you're unlovable. Of being seen even when you try to disappear.
Alex had begged for that kind of love.
And still Ava left.
But Adrien?
Adrien rolled his eyes when she nagged. Yelled at her. Slammed doors. Said things that would've made her cry ten years ago.
And she stayed.
She stayed and forgave and fed him mango slices with her hands like he was five and not a bitter little teenage boy who took everything for granted.
Alex gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
He hated him.
He hated his walk. His face. His name.
He hated that Ava still called it softly. "Adrien, baby," she'd said on the phone once, when Alex had called her and she picked up without checking the screen.
He'd frozen at the sound.
"Did you eat?" she'd whispered. "Want me to come pick you up?"
Alex had hung up.
Now, across the street, he watched Adrien tap out another message, probably to her.
Probably asking for food. A ride. More.
More love.
More of her.
And she would give it. Always.
Alex rested his forehead against the steering wheel.
She never gave him that much.
She flinched when he raised his voice.
She stayed when Adrien did it.
The difference was simple.
She loved Adrien.
Not because he earned it. Not because he deserved it.
Because he existed.
And Alex — Alex had to shatter just to be noticed.
He sat in that car until the sun dipped low and Adrien finally left.
And as Alex followed at a distance, his thoughts drowned out everything else.
He doesn't deserve her.
He doesn't deserve a single piece of her.
But no matter how much he hated it — the boy still had all of her.
And Alex had nothing.