เข้าสู่ระบบแชร์
Not done bleeding
วันที่เผยแพร่:
2026-06-09 15:56:24
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Her poison, His antidote Distraction, The opposite of love
After the meeting that day, Alex became consistent in my world. Reaching out when he was out of town and showing up in person on a good day. One time, Alex showed up at my studio with two cups and no agenda. He made us coffee…Two hours of silence, broken only by the scratch of charcoal and the occasional hum of agreement from his side of the room. "You don't have to stay," I said. "I know." Yet, He stayed. The coffee became a ritual. Tuesdays and Thursdays, 10 a.m, no exceptions. He never texted to confirm, he just appeared, like the morning light. I had stopped complaining, I just make sure to be at the studio before 10 a.m, and honestly I had always looked forward to having him around. Some days we talked. Some days we dont. He learned that I painted best in silence and talked best when I wasn't looking at him. "You're deflecting," he said once, after I had spent ten minutes describing a documentary I had watched instead of answering his question about how I was
Her poison, His antidote Not done bleeding
The night didn't care what I wished for. I woke up on the floor at 3:47 a.m., my neck stiff, one cheek pressed against the cold wood. The ceiling stared back at me, blank and white and merciless. I had not disappeared. I was still here. Still Ava. Still the girl who had shouted her ugliest truth in a gallery full of art that was supposed to have healed her. My phone was still before me. I didn't need to check it to know there would be messages. I could feel them waiting. I picked it up anyway. Alex (11:02 PM): Are you home safe? Alex (11:47 PM): I am not going to pretend I understand what happened. But I am not angry. I just need you to tell me you are okay. Alex (12:34 AM): Ava, Please. Then nothing for two hours. Then, at 2:51 AM: Alex: I am outside your building. My heart stopped. I crawled to the window actually crawled, because my legs still didn't feel like they belonged to me and peep back the edge of the curtain. His car was there. A dark sedan, pulled up against
Her poison, His antidote The confession
The name hit me like a physical blow. Austin. My hand stiffened in Alex’s hand. I could tell he felt the shift in my posture,the way my face turned pale, the way my breath caught and held. He turned to look at me, confusion flickering across his features, then followed my gaze to the doorway. Austin stood there, his shadow revealed against the dim gallery lights. He looked the same. God, he always looked the same. That easy smile, those eyes that had once convinced me I was the center of his universe. He was dressed casually,dark jeans, a leather jacket, like he had just rolled in from somewhere important. “Alex, man, sorry I am late.” Austin stepped forward, already reaching out for a handshake. “The flight got delayed and then…” He stopped. His eyes landed on me. On my hand, still held in Alex's. On my face, which had gone pale. “Ava?” Austin's voice cracked.. He blinked, like he was trying to clear a hallucination. “What…how…” “You know each other?” Alex asked. His voic
Her poison, His antidote Art and Emotion
I stood frozen in the doorway of my own exhibition room, the bangle in my hand suddenly feeling like a liability.“You have been looking for me?” The words came out breathless, smaller than I intended.Alex stepped closer, and the gallery lights caught the edges of his face, sharpening the angles of his jaw,which soften something in his expression. “For weeks,” he said simply. “You disappeared.”“I didn't disappear. I was…”“Painting?” He finished my sentence, and his lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. “Okay.”He held out one of the champagne glasses. I took it because my hands needed something to do, because standing in front of him empty handed felt too vulnerable, because I did’nt know what else to do with the way my heart was hammering against my ribs.“You knew,” I said. It was not a question.Alex leaned against the doorframe, close enough that I could smell whatever clean, woody scent clung to his jacket. Close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to hold
Her poison, His antidote The exhibition
The days leading up to the exhibition passed so fast,I had sleepless night painting my final brushstrokes. At some point I stopped counting how many times I repainted the same corner of a canvas, stopped noticing when the sun came up or went down. The studio became my entire world,The newly painted twelve canvases were my priority. I didn't go back to the club. I didn't look for Alex. I told myself I was too busy, too focused, too close to something important to let myself get distracted by green eyes and gentle smiles. And maybe I was afraid, Afraid that finding him would mean facing the version of myself who ran away, Afraid that he wouldn't remember me or that he would. So I painted,I painted until my shoulders ached and my eyes hurt. I painted until the faces of Austin blurred into something distant. The night of the exhibition arrived with the kind of nervousness that made my dress cling to my skin before I even left the apartment. I stood in front of my mirror for too lo
Her poison, His antidote Finding Alex
The weeks that followed I found myself repeating a strange kind of routine.I would wake up before the sun, before my brain could remember why it hurt to be awake. I would make coffee that I didn’t taste and force down toasted bread that felt dry down my throat.Then I would grab my bag and walk to the studio before I could talk myself out of it.The studio became my shelter. I needed to make Clara Vance work.Twelve canvases waited for me, blank and patient. They didn't care about my broken heart. They didn't care that I hadn't slept or that I had cried in the shower that morning until the water ran cold. They just sat there, white and expectant, waiting for me to turn my pain into something they could wear.And I did.I painted Austin.Not his face exactly. Something more honest than that. I painted his absence. I painted the way the light looked different after he left me. I painted the sound of a phone that doesn't ring. I painted the weight of words I never got to say.One canvas
Her poison, His antidote Broken yet again
At exactly 2:00pm I left the restaurant, the taxi dropped me off outside my building. I walked up the stairs slowly. Each step felt harder than the one before. When I got inside, I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my shoes. I left them right there.The apartment was too quiet,too empty, th
Her poison, His antidote What comes next?
My phone rang, slicing through the heavy silence between us. I almost jumped at the sound. Alex was still watching me with those patient green eyes, waiting for my answer about letting him drive me home, and I felt like a cornered animal searching for an escape. I glanced at the screen. Clara Van
Her poison, His antidote Caught in the web
I spun around, searching for Alex. He was still on the phone in the corner of the kitchen, his back turned, voice a low murmur I couldn’t make sense of what he was discussing. There was no time. If Austin found me here, in his house, after he had tossed me aside like yesterday's news… the humiliati
Her poison, His antidote In my ex’s bed
My mind was a jumble of confusion as i tried to piece together the events of the night before. The stranger…..the one whose car i had entered. I hurriedly got off the bed, Austin’s house wasn’t the best place to be right now. As I tried to move, my head swam violently, and i almost fell due to the
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