A mixture of jealousy and satisfaction cycle internally.
Axel accepts that Sunday will never just be his, and he has pushed his other two brothers towards her as best he can. They need her just as much as she needs them. But sometimes when he least expects it, his animosity will flare up. It isn’t even directed at his brothers, just at himself.
I have never been enough.
He stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. At the jut of his nose, the angle of his jaw, the color of his eyes. The similarities between Tripp and himself are undeniable and sometimes alone like this the demons will fester.
Remind him that he is just the shadow of a better man. A disgusting replica. A heartless monster.
His brother’s replacement.
I miss you Tripp. You deserve to be here.
Even after the equivalent of years, the pain of his twin’s death had not dissipated in the least, he had simply shifted his concerns to Sunday. Put his energy into keeping her alive.
But now that they were out of the loops…
With nothing else to focus on…
“Axel?” Sunday’s voice is gentle, her footsteps nearly silent as she pads into the bathroom.
Her eyes catch his in the mirror.
Whatever she sees causes her to step behind him, to wrap her arms around him. Her heart beats softly against his back.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, snuggling into him.
“No,” Axel admits. “But I’m better now.” He turns in her arms, allows her warmth to soak into him. Allows her to mend him.
She has always healed him, in every loop. He was a broken angry man before he found her. Pissed off at the world, hateful towards Tripp and Auggie, mad at himself.
Destined to repeat a generational curse, destined to exist in a broken system, destined to find the worst path and dive towards it. But then he set his eyes on her. He saw everything Tripp mentioned in the letters.
And then he got to know her. The stubborn, strong-willed, but idiotic girl that she is. He wanted on more than one occasion to shake her. To demand she follow and listen to him. But he knew better.
Sunday Masch is a force to be reckoned with.
Axel smiles as he rests his chin on the top of her head. Her unruly curls offer a cushion. Her floral scent suffuses into the air and invades him as she tightens her arms around him, burrowing into his chest.
He doesn’t deserve her. He knows that. Just as he knows he will never let her go.
“Axel?” Sunday murmurs into him.
“Will you come on a ride with me?” The question springs on its own.
“Okay,” she agrees without hesitation.
He doesn’t wait for her to change her mind.
Untangling from Sunday, he grabs her by the wrist and starts tugging her out of the bathroom, towards the stairs.
“We should let Darius–”
Axel doesn’t let her finish, she’s moving too slow and suddenly he feels the need to hurry. He pauses only to lift her off her feet and throw her over his shoulder. “I have my phone, I’ll text him.”
“Axel!” Sunday exclaims startled. Her small fists find his back, but he barely feels them as he quickly makes his way down the stairs and back to his motorcycle.
He is still in his full gear; she’s not, but he will drive carefully.
