Some Sort of Complication. Chapter Three.

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“Hey now, hey now.” Peter grabbed a tissue from behind the counter and handed it to me, looking slightly frantic. “It’s all right, breathe.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up, even as I cried a little harder. “I... he... and... oh gawd!” I buried my face in my hands, thrusting the plate away from me.

Peter jumped up, wrapping his hands around my shoulders and lifting me slowly off the chair, guiding me toward the stairs. “Cassie!” He shouted behind us. “I’ll be back whenever, make sure the doors are opened by ten.” Even as I stumbled my way up the stairs, tissue screwed up in my hand, I wondered if Peter had led Daryl up the same way.

Setting me down on the couch, Peter stared fussing around me, finding a blanket, getting more tissues. Most importantly, he locked the door and opened his stash of dark chocolate. I sat shuddering on the couch, waiting for the panicked sobs to subside. He settled next to me and rustled the chocolate open.

The sobs had stopped and Peter’s chocolate was sitting in neatly broken blocks on the table, I was distracted by the echo of colours coming from the glass tabletop. The deep brown of the chocolate blurred against the blue of the carpet as my eyes ran slowly. I laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and pretending I hadn’t just been crying.

Slowly, he stroked my hair, murmuring about how it was okay, and I’d be fine. I felt him settle his chin on my head, and his hand tugged the ends of my hair lightly. I’d always felt comfortable around Peter. There was something ultimately harmless about him that just settled my mind, I could do whatever I did around Pet and he’d never judge me. His hand moved from my hair to rubbing my arms, sighing against my hair.

“What happened, kiddo? You’ve never burst out like that in all the time I’ve known you, and that’s a long time.” I shivered at his concerned tone, that tone said that he wanted answers. His hand moved down and touched my elbow, and I flinched from the pain. The early morning yoga off my bed had left some bruises. He noticed.

“What was that? Did I hurt you?” He turned me around to face him and manouvered my arm toward him, I let him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I fell off my bed this morning.” His eyes were sceptical. “Seriously. I fell asleep upside down and on my arms, and then I fell when I tried to get to my mobile. Which you had been calling on. Really, it’s your fault.” He laughed lightly, hugging me close.

“If anyone hurt you, you’d tell me, right?” His voice was low and I could feel the tension in his chest. Peter had always worried after me, ever since before I left for school. He’d make sure I got home safe, and keep me in line.

“Of course. You’re my favourite body guard, since always, Pet.” The tension eased as I snuggled close to his warmth. “It was stupid. No reason to cry at all.”

He picked up a piece of chocolate and placed it on my nose. “So, what was so stupid that you burst into tears? Hrm?”

I almost laughed, “Everything is stupid, Pet. Everything. Some days, you know, it comes up and bites you in the arse and all you can do is what your body tells you to do. Today it was crying. Well, that or showing little miss Cassie what’s what. I thought you’d appreciate this way more.”

He laughed. “You’d be surprised.”

“It’s been a long time since I cried. I’m sorry I had to embarrass us both by doing it here. I feel like a complete tool now.” I sighed and picked up a chocolate, staring at it so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Anything to do with Daryl at all?” I twisted in my seat, and he nodded without really looking at me. “He was here for part of last night, you know.” The visions of absinthe and green tinted lenses filled my mind. “Didn’t stay long, though.” He wasn’t looking at me; he had his back to me while he juiced some oranges. Peter never stayed in one place too long, not without having something to do, and he was intuitive enough, as always, to not stare at me.

“I waited up for him.” The chocolate on the table was flat and the colours made me angry. Those cool blues and deep browns together, looking as though they belonged. The simple connection frustrated me; my life was mixed up enough that balance was alien. “He didn’t come home until the next day. I was worried.” I moved the chocolate blocks into patterns. A square, then a clunky heart, then a chess board of blue and brown.

“He was pale, didn’t talk much. You guys must have had a good row, then?” I could feel my shoulders hunch as I broke the board and bit into a chocolate. “You’re probably eating so you don’t have to comment. So I’ll keep talking.” I glared at his back, trying to be angry with him. “He didn’t say anything, at all, really. Just drank his drink and brooded in the corner. When I asked what was wrong he stared me down, grumbling something about not knowing, and mistakes.” He turned around with two glasses of orange juice and sat next to me. “Cliché as that was... I think he meant it.”

My head was in his lap now, resting on his thigh as he stroked my hair. “What does it matter if he means anything? That is his meaning, not mine or anyone else’s. I’d be lucky if his meaning even touched on mine, you know?” His hand stayed a moment while he thought, and I closed my eyes.

“I know what you mean... but perhaps you could give him a chance?” He resumed the slow petting, and I wanted to just curl up along the couch and sleep.

“He took a lot away from me, Pet... he took a life I don’t think I ever had.”

“If you never had it, why does it matter that he’s taken it?” I lifted my head and twisted back up to sit with him.

“Because he stole it from me. Whether I knew I had it or not, whether he stole something that didn’t mean anything, he still stole it. He did it without thinking, without caring. And I was left without a purpose or a place.” The tears wanted to swell to my eyelids again. “I know it shouldn’t matter. But it does, and it took me years to forgive what he did, and didn’t do. Now I’m just waiting for him to realise what I’ve forgiven.”
Peter cuddled me close, and we sat in comfortable silence for a short while. A loud knock woke us both up, and we parted with stifled yawns.

“Almost fell asleep there, you’re too comfortable, Mella.” Peter stretched and walked to open the door. Cassie stood outside and peered in as soon as the door opened. I think she was disappointed to see me yawning on the couch with two glasses of orange juice and some chocolate on the table. Nothing remotely scandalous. “Yes, Cas?”

“We’re swamped down there. Robert asked me to tell you we needed you.” Cassie avoided looking directly at me, keeping her eyes on Peter, turning her body so that she was closer to him than necessary. He stepped away from her and toward me.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to go deal with this.” I stood to meet him and smiled brightly.

“Never mind, I’m fine. Thanks, though.” He grinned back at me and kissed my forehead softly. Cassie watched in what I think was horror.

“Stay here as long as you need, you’ve a key, so just lock the door behind you, aye?” He ushered Cassie out in front of him, and winked at me before closing the door.

I thought about getting up and wandering around. Instead I curled up on the couch and closed my eyes again, drifting off in the warmth.

The dream was a falling dream, where the floor fell away and I tumbled through the darkness. Streaks of solid black seemed to fill the space; they seemed even darker than everything else. The ground was coming, I could feel the rushing thrill of the speed of my fall. But the sickly headache of being unbalanced made me want to throw up. Impact was soon. I tensed my body, holding my neck and spine in place, hoping it would help. I remembered vaguely something about keeping loose to help the impact, but it was hiding through the terror. Down, down, down. And suddenly I was there, just about to hit.

I woke on the couch, bolt upright with tightness in my chest that was not unfamiliar. My neck and back ached, as though I’d held both in awkwardness for a time. With a groan I re-arranged myself on the cushions, I was okay. It seemed important to stress to myself that it was okay, that I was okay. So I did, over and over again until the sound of my own voice in my head grated.

There were no noises from downstairs and the curtains were drawn. Rolling off the couch, I slammed onto the floor in a wrapping of blankets. With a grunt and a few moans, I stood, swaying and holding my head in my hands. I’d moved too quickly and stood too fast, so the rushing blood throbbed in my skull. Keeping a tight hold on my temples, I tottered to the curtains and pulled them apart. The light shot into the room, filling it instantly in mid-day sun. The carpet became a sea blue, as opposed to the storm blue that the darkness had assumed. Now holding a hand to shade my eyes, I looked about the upstairs apartment. It was as good looking as the day it was put in. Peter had kept maintenance, though no one lived here anymore. The thought of the previous tenant stung for a moment, so I pushed it away from my mind and wandered about some more.

I couldn’t have been sleeping for more than two hours, and my stomach mentioned the need for food. Glancing past the bedroom, I opened the fridge and considered making myself a meal, then realised that there was a cafe downstairs that would cook for me. Stretching in the sun, I opened the door, letting it click locked behind me, and padded down the stairs. I’d forgotten my shoes upstairs, but the shorts and wife beater made me look the young university student I was, so I ran with it.

Cassie scowled when she saw me, trying to ignore me and glare at me at the same time. I ignored her and slipped into my usual stool, waiting for Peter to wander out to serve me. Instead, Cassie walked up, smiling at me.

“How can I help you?” So many things ran through my head that I had to pause to sift through them. I’d have loved to be rude, or to make any one of the comments that I had in my head; you can go away. You can stop flirting with your boss, you can... but I thought better of it.

“I’d like a chocolate milkshake and spaghetti bolognaise, thank you.” She blinked with slow lashes and nodded. I wondered if she was going to move at all.

“And how are you going to pay for that today? May I ask?” She was smug, playing the waitress to my customer. I smiled brightly at her.

“I’ll decide that once I’ve finished my meal, thanks.” The scowl on her face could have matched Captain Hook’s whenever he lost to Peter Pan. The analogy surprised me, I’d not thought about those kids movies in a long time, and Peter Pan had never been my favourite. Shaking my head to clear the thoughts out, I watched her tight backside stride through the back door. Peter was out in seconds, grinning at me brightly.

“Time for lunch, then? I’ll work it out on the register.” His cheery attitude perked me up more than teasing the waitress did. “What did you do up there?”

“Slept, I didn’t realise I needed it so badly.” I rolled my neck quickly, trying to get the lingering kinks out.

Peter just smiled and slid another milkshake into my hands. “Your food will be soon, promise. Til then, I’ve work to do. Say bye before you go?”

“Sure thing.” I kissed his cheek and he turned back through the doors to the kitchen.

I moved to a table against the window, where I could watch the purple blossoms as they played against the tabletops. The wind picked up, and a flurry of flowers made me grin, my food arriving minutes later.
I like you as an enemy, but I love you as a friend.




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I still love it. ^^
Again, I can't see much to change... and I guess that wraps up the 'crying is out of character' thing. In fact, her actions fit nicely with her emotions, she is still realistic, which is great.
That waitress is a -insert insult here- so you've got her role done well ^^
I'm not being much help, am I?
I'm still wondering what the deal is with her and Daryl. It's arranged, somehow? Why?
...I'm just going to have to go read the next part.
It's not easy having a good time. Even smiling makes my face ache.




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“Hey now, hey now.” Peter grabbed a tissue from behind the counter and handed it to me, looking slightly frantic. “It’s all right, breathe.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up, even as I cried a little harder. “I... he... and... oh gawd!” I buried my face in my hands, thrusting the plate away from me.

Peter jumped up, wrapping his hands around my shoulders and lifting me slowly off the chair, guiding me toward the stairs. “Cassie!” He shouted behind us. “I’ll be back whenever, make sure the doors are opened by ten.” Even as I stumbled my way up the stairs, tissue screwed up in my hand, I wondered if Peter had led Daryl up the same way. [I'd love some textural description here. She has her head buried in her hands so sight is officially out so instead describe it from a feeling and sound point of view. Don't say Peter jumped up, that's what a seeing person says. Instead describe the sound or the tickle of air swept across her by the movement. Describe the warmth and solidity of his hands about her and think: are her arms bare? What sort of clothes is she likely to be wearing? Because that effects the feel of it quite a lot. And the tissue: how does it feel? If you're unsure, dab some water on a bit of toilet paper and then crumple it, it's almost rough yes, the more it degrades? But at the same time, it's sort of fluffy. Of course, this varies dependent on the type of toilet paper or tissue so... just have a think about it, yeah? Because those few extra words can make all the difference.]

Setting me down on the couch, Peter started fussing around me, finding a blanket, getting more tissues. Most importantly, he locked the door and opened his stash of dark chocolate. I sat shuddering on the couch, waiting for the panicked sobs to subside. He settled next to me and rustled the chocolate open. [Slow it down, dear. Describe the heaviness of the blanket being dropped about her shoulders and how fingers move and grab for it reflexively as it starts slipping back. Describe how she steadys herself just a little as she pulls it tighter around her and then she can start to see things again. Until her hands are physically away from her eyes, pretend she is blind. Pretend she doesn't know it's the couch she's sitting on are have her intelligently assume that... you know?]

The sobs had stopped and Peter’s chocolate was sitting in neatly broken blocks on the table, [Semi colon or new sentence here.] I was distracted by the echo of colours coming from the glass tabletop. The deep brown of the chocolate blurred against the blue of the carpet as my eyes ran slowly. I laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and pretending I hadn’t just been crying.

Slowly, he stroked my hair, murmuring about how it was okay, and I’d be fine. I felt him settle his chin on my head, and his hand tugged the ends of my hair lightly. I’d always felt comfortable around Peter. There was something ultimately harmless about him that just settled my mind, I could do whatever I did around Pet and he’d never judge me. His hand moved from my hair to rubbing my arms, sighing against my hair. [Ah but her hair doesn't feel this so surely it brushes against the back of her neck and there's that little caress of warm breath?]

“What happened, kiddo? You’ve never burst out like that in all the time I’ve known you, and that’s a long time.” I shivered at his concerned tone, that tone said that he wanted answers. His hand moved down and touched my elbow, and I flinched from the pain. The early morning yoga off my bed had left some bruises. He noticed.

“What was that? Did I hurt you?” He turned me around to face him and manouvered my arm toward him, I let him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I fell off my bed this morning.” His eyes were sceptical. “Seriously. I fell asleep upside down and on my arms, and then I fell when I tried to get to my mobile. Which you had been calling on. Really, it’s your fault.” He laughed lightly, hugging me close.

“If anyone hurt you, you’d tell me, right?” His voice was low and I could feel the tension in his chest. Peter had always worried after me, ever since before I left for school. He’d make sure I got home safe, and keep me in line. [This part isn't really necessary, particularly with the line of dialogue that follows. And it's border-line telling, the first part to actually stand out at all so I'd suggest it go bye byes.]

“Of course. You’re my favourite body guard, since always, Pet.” The tension eased as I snuggled close to his warmth. “It was stupid. No reason to cry at all.”

He picked up a piece of chocolate and placed it on my nose. “So, what was so stupid that you burst into tears? Hrm?”

I almost laughed, “Everything is stupid, Pet. Everything. Some days, you know, it comes up and bites you in the arse and all you can do is what your body tells you to do. Today it was crying. Well, that or showing little miss Cassie what’s what. I thought you’d appreciate this way more.”

He laughed. “You’d be surprised.”

“It’s been a long time since I cried. I’m sorry I had to embarrass us both by doing it here. I feel like a complete tool now.” I sighed and picked up a chocolate, staring at it so I wouldn’t have to look at him. [And where's the piece on her nose gone? On the floor I'd imagine with all that chattering as a person moved quite a bit, particularly when distressed. I think you should mention it dropping to the floor or maybe even just Pet picking it up and putting it to one side of the table.]

“Anything to do with Daryl at all?” I twisted in my seat, and he nodded without really looking at me. “He was here for part of last night, you know.” The visions of absinthe and green tinted lenses filled my mind. “Didn’t stay long, though.” He wasn’t looking at me; he had his back to me while he juiced some oranges. Peter never stayed in one place too long, not without having something to do, and he was intuitive enough, as always, to not stare at me.

“I waited up for him.” The chocolate on the table was flat and the colours made me angry. Those cool blues and deep browns together, looking as though they belonged. The simple connection frustrated me; my life was mixed up enough that balance was alien. [Lovely imagery.] “He didn’t come home until the next day. I was worried.” I moved the chocolate blocks into patterns. A square, then a clunky heart, then a chess board of blue and brown.

“He was pale, didn’t talk much. You guys must have had a good row, then?” I could feel my shoulders hunch as I broke the board and bit into a chocolate. “You’re probably eating so you don’t have to comment. So I’ll keep talking.” I glared at his back, trying to be angry with him. “He didn’t say anything, at all, really. Just drank his drink and brooded in the corner. When I asked what was wrong he stared me down, grumbling something about not knowing, and mistakes.” He turned around with two glasses of orange juice and sat next to me. “Cliché as that was... I think he meant it.”

My head was in his lap now, resting on his thigh as he stroked my hair. “What does it matter if he means anything? That is his meaning, not mine or anyone else’s. I’d be lucky if his meaning even touched on mine, you know?” His hand stayed a moment while he thought, and I closed my eyes. [Getting a little simplistic in your description, dear. Does she close her eyes because they feel heavy? Does she rather allow them to close rather than make the physical effort of shutting them, is it more a release? Just... you need a little something more here or maybe a little earlier so that your sentences don't get too choppy. Your dialogue is lovely but keep up the visuals as well.]

“I know what you mean... but perhaps you could give him a chance?” He resumed the slow petting, and I wanted to just curl up along the couch and sleep.

“He took a lot away from me, Pet... he took a life I don’t think I ever had.”

“If you never had it, why does it matter that he’s taken it?” I lifted my head and twisted back up to sit with him.

“Because he stole it from me. Whether I knew I had it or not, whether he stole something that didn’t mean anything, he still stole it. He did it without thinking, without caring. And I was left without a purpose or a place.” The tears wanted to swell to my eyelids again. “I know it shouldn’t matter. But it does, and it took me years to forgive what he did, and didn’t do. Now I’m just waiting for him to realise what I’ve forgiven.”

Peter cuddled me close, and we sat in comfortable silence for a short while. A loud knock woke us both up, and we parted with stifled yawns.

“Almost fell asleep there, you’re too comfortable, Mella.” Peter stretched and walked to open the door. Cassie stood outside and peered in as soon as the door opened. I think she was disappointed to see me yawning on the couch with two glasses of orange juice and some chocolate on the table. Nothing remotely scandalous. “Yes, Cas?”

“We’re swamped down there. Robert asked me to tell you we needed you.” Cassie avoided looking directly at me, keeping her eyes on Peter, turning her body so that she was closer to him than necessary. He stepped away from her and toward me. [And how does Mella feel about the way Cas acts? Is she amused at the girl's attempted seductions, does it irritate her, does she feel some sort of ownership for Pet?]

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to go deal with this.” I stood to meet him and smiled brightly.

“Never mind, I’m fine. Thanks, though.” He grinned back at me and kissed my forehead softly. Cassie watched in what I think was horror.

“Stay here as long as you need, you’ve a key, so just lock the door behind you, aye?” He ushered Cassie out in front of him, and winked at me before closing the door. [How does he usher her out? Hands on her poorly covered hips, completely immune to all her flirting and skimpiness or rather hands in front but not actually touching her?]

I thought about getting up and wandering around. Instead I curled up on the couch and closed my eyes again, drifting off in the warmth.

The dream was a falling dream, where the floor fell away and I tumbled through the darkness. Streaks of solid black seemed to fill the space; they seemed even darker than everything else. The ground was coming, I could feel the rushing thrill of the speed of my fall. But the sickly headache of being unbalanced made me want to throw up. Impact was soon. I tensed my body, holding my neck and spine in place, hoping it would help. I remembered vaguely something about keeping loose to help the impact, but it was hiding through the terror. Down, down, down. And suddenly I was there, just about to hit.

I woke on the couch, bolt upright with tightness in my chest that was not unfamiliar. My neck and back ached, as though I’d held both in awkwardness for a time. With a groan I re-arranged myself on the cushions, I was okay. It seemed important to stress to myself that it was okay, that I was okay. So I did, over and over again until the sound of my own voice in my head grated.

There were no noises from downstairs and the curtains were drawn. Rolling off the couch, I slammed onto the floor in a wrapping of blankets. With a grunt and a few moans, I stood, swaying and holding my head in my hands. I’d moved too quickly and stood too fast, so the rushing blood throbbed in my skull. Keeping a tight hold on my temples, I tottered to the curtains and pulled them apart. [What happened to the tangle of blankets? I think you need a sentence describing her extricating herself from them. I always find that the biggest struggle.] The light shot into the room, filling it instantly in mid-day sun. The carpet became a sea blue, as opposed to the storm blue that the darkness had assumed. Now holding a hand to shade my eyes, I looked about the upstairs apartment. It was as good looking as the day it was put in. Peter had kept maintenance, though no one lived here anymore. The thought of the previous tenant stung for a moment, so I pushed it away from my mind and wandered about some more.

I couldn’t have been sleeping for more than two hours, and my stomach mentioned the need for food. Glancing past the bedroom, I opened the fridge and considered making myself a meal, then realised that there was a cafe downstairs that would cook for me. Stretching in the sun, I opened the door, letting it click locked behind me, and padded down the stairs. I’d forgotten my shoes upstairs, but the shorts and wife beater made me look the young university student I was, so I ran with it.

Cassie scowled when she saw me, trying to ignore me and glare at me at the same time. I ignored her and slipped into my usual stool, waiting for Peter to wander out to serve me. Instead, Cassie walked up, smiling at me.

“How can I help you?” So many things ran through my head that I had to pause to sift through them. I’d have loved to be rude, or to make any one of the comments that I had in my head; you can go away. You can stop flirting with your boss, you can... but I thought better of it.

“I’d like a chocolate milkshake and spaghetti bolognaise, thank you.” She blinked with slow lashes and nodded. I wondered if she was going to move at all.

“And how are you going to pay for that today? May I ask?” She was smug, playing the waitress to my customer. I smiled brightly at her.

“I’ll decide that once I’ve finished my meal, thanks.” The scowl on her face could have matched Captain Hook’s whenever he lost to Peter Pan. The analogy surprised me, I’d not thought about those kids movies in a long time, and Peter Pan had never been my favourite. Shaking my head to clear the thoughts out, I watched her tight backside stride through the back door. Peter was out in seconds, grinning at me brightly.

“Time for lunch, then? I’ll work it out on the register.” His cheery attitude perked me up more than teasing the waitress did. “What did you do up there?”

“Slept, I didn’t realise I needed it so badly.” I rolled my neck quickly, trying to get the lingering kinks out.

Peter just smiled and slid another milkshake into my hands. “Your food will be soon, promise. Til then, I’ve work to do. Say bye before you go?”

“Sure thing.” I kissed his cheek and he turned back through the doors to the kitchen.

I moved to a table against the window, where I could watch the purple blossoms as they played against the tabletops. The wind picked up, and a flurry of flowers made me grin, my food arriving minutes later.


[Ah, a lovely chapter. I really do like the setting of the apartment but maybe build on the contrast between curtains closed and curtains open. The whole change between not having slept and having slept. And maybe a mention of the remaining chocolates on the table looking different from before, how they're somehow just chocolate again, not a chess board or a thing in perfect harmony with the blue of the carpet. Just chocolate. And show us how her perspective widens. I always find that to be a factor after a bout of depression, that suddenly you're looking further than the immediate vicinity of bed, cover, computer and there's this beautiful world beyond the window and pictures on the wall and little statues of memory lurking on shelves and leaning out from the dark corners and suddenly there's that thought: how could anything possibly be so bad amidst all this beauty? And then the emotions and horribleness will hit again but it's somewhat easier and more distant. Yeah... something like that but in a couple of sentences XD

I'll see you again the other side of chapter four (probably tomorrow afternoon),

Heather xx]
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~Previously KittyKatSparklesExplosion15~

The light shines brightest in the darkest places.



Death is cheap, and so is life, but a reputation is not easily recovered.
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