Love Unspoken

The icy water rushed into her nostrils and down her throat, the sensation of suffocation wrapping around her as her lungs strained against the pressure. Quinn, driven by instinct, thrashed about in the water, her desperate kicks and splashes sending waves skittering across the bathroom floor.

After a brief, frenzied struggle, Alexander's hand closed around the collar of her clothes, yanking her out of the tub. She gasped for air, water gushing from her mouth and nose in a desperate expulsion.

"Tell me, did you do it willingly?" Alexander's voice cut through the air again. Quinn opened her eyes, the water cascading down her face blurring her vision.

"Tell me!" he pressed, his voice insistent. Quinn gave a nod in response.

As if he had anticipated her response, Alexander pushed her back into the water. This time, Quinn offered no resistance. She lay there, allowing the cold water to envelop her, her arms dangling lifelessly at her sides. She had never been brave enough to end it all, but perhaps Alexander would do her this favor.

'Death seems welcoming. It means freedom. No more burdening others. No more pain. Someone like me... should have died long ago.' Quinn thought, her eyes closing as the memories of the years flashed through her mind. As the suffocating sensation peaked, her consciousness began to blur.

Suddenly, Alexander yanked her out of the water again.

the

thrashing had caused water to splash all over him, leaving his clothes stained with varying shades of wetness. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it to the floor beside him. Crouching down in front of Quinn, he lifted her chin, "Now tell me, did

to smile, tugging at the corners of her mouth, but even

she did it willingly or not? What difference did it make, whether it was her choice or not? He should have known what might happen when he chose not to look for her. But he didn't

world seemed to be whirling around her. She

ready to burst at any moment. The next second, he threw her back

cleaned up!" Without another glance,

coldness was almost indistinguishable from ice. She looked at the closed bathroom door, her hair dripping, water trailing down her neck into her collar, the chill seeping into her pores and penetrating

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slowly sunk beneath the surface. Her clothes and hair flowed out around her. Dying was not difficult after all. She closed her eyes, allowing the water to flood her nostrils,

discomfort in her

their way to school, his indulgent smile, the way he would ruffle her hair and tell her to eat more, saying he didn't like