TALIA
It had now been about a week and a half since Alex arrived, and he showed no intention of leaving. I’d lock my door at night, waking up some mornings on the floor next to it. He was right. I was sleepwalking, trying to get to him. I tried to mostly stay up on the alpha floor, spending time watching TV in the private living room instead of downstairs where he would try to force me into conversations I had no interest in having. Sometimes he’d catch me during mealtime and invite me to go for a walk with him. One day, he left a bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table for me, with a note asking me to give him a chance.
He was very persistent; I’d give him that. But I couldn’t get past his horrible eyes and that his father had killed my mother. The idea of being around anyone who was re
