We were born sick; you heard them say it [Addreig]

Rosaline had been spending a lot of time by herself, as of late. She kept herself shut up in the house when she wasn't at the apothecary, and the only human contact that she had had as of late, aside from work, had been letters to and from her friends and family. Mainly, she had been writing to Basil. He seemed to be one of the few people who was not upset with her, as of late. Cabhan was upset that she had kissed Zachary during the New Years Eve ball. Addreig was upset that she had gone to the New Years Eve ball with Cabhan... Conall was just busy, and not necessarily upset with her. Regardless, she felt alone.

However, she had managed to find the courage, days prior, to owl Addreig and extend an invitation for him to join her for dinner and drinks at her home in London. She had not received a reply. So, there she sat, curled up on her sofa with her cats in front of the fireplace. Alone. At least she had managed to still look presentable, on the off chance that he may decide to show up. She took a sip from the wine glass in her hand. Her brother had sent her a new bottle, and she had decided to drown her sorrows in it that night. This had only been her second helping, and so she was far from intoxicated as of yet. Perhaps, if he did not show up, then she could simply write to Basil again? He always seemed willing to listen to all of her nonsense.

Honestly, Rosaline was more than a little surprised when she heard a knock at the door. She was not about to get her hopes up, however. It was, after all, very possible that it could be someone other than Addreig. She sent her little house elf, Nim, from the kitchen and to the front door to answer it. Dinner would be ready soon.

“I’ve just been really busy…work’s been a nightmare…”

Addreig cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, hand clutched tightly around a comb as he fussed with his part and rehearsed what he would say to Rose when he finally saw her after almost two months. He was standing in the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, having just gotten out of the shower. The weekend afforded him ample time to groom and now, especially, he was taking advantage of that. He had every intention to primp and preen until he was just right; he had an impression to make, after all. He hadn’t seen his paramour in quite some time and he did owe her an apology; at least for his absence. They were, he’d concluded, even.

It wasn’t like Addreig to not hold a grudge; at least to let one go so quickly. No, he normally held onto things for quite some time when he felt he’d been wronged. In this instance, where Rose was involved, the transgression was forgiven in record time. The problem here was that he wasn’t quite sure how to admit to her that he was wrong to be upset with her. If there was one thing he hated the most, it was admitting that he was wrong. He’d had plenty of time to try to excuse his behavior with the fact that she knew about his rocky relationship with Cabhan and consequently she should have known not to compromise it further. Perhaps it was the fact that he was being so juvenile and so far removed from the standard he held himself to that he was so apt to dismiss the offence.

Finally pleased with the way his hair was laying, Add put away the comb and left the bathroom, making his way into his bedroom where his clothes were already laid out. He quickly slipped them on, noticing how late it already was; time had slipped away from him. He didn’t want to look as if he were trying toohard, so he’d just opted for a pair of dark, straight legged jeans, a fitted button down Oxford shirt and a thin jumper. Over black wool socks, he pulled on his dragonskin boots and finally, as he was walking out the door, he slipped into his navy pea coat. He was halfway down the hall to the front door of his building when he remembered the flowers he’d bought for Rose early that morning when he went to get his coffee. They were simple wildflowers, nothing too extravagant, but he hoped the gesture would be enough.

He was too lazy and too in a hurry to walk, so he pulled the door to his flat closed and closed his eye tightly, envisioning the alley nearest to Rose’s home in his mind’s eye. The tightness closed in a round him and after the squeezing pressure subsided and he’d heard the pop, he opened his eyes. Within minutes he’d strode the length of the block and before he knew it he was at her door. Time had a funny way of speeding up when all he wanted it to do was slow down. He reminded himself, as he lifted his free hand to knock on the door, excuses first, apologies only as a last resort. So, steeling himself, he knocked once and then twice and stepped back, unsure of how she’d receive him.

Rosaline listened for Nim's greeting to her visitor. "Good evening, Mr. Daley. May I take your coat?"

Addreig? He had shown up after all. A small smile came to her lips, but butterflies flew nervously in her stomach. What if he was still upset with her? What if he had only come to tell her off? She stood, smoothing out her dress and slipping back into her heels before walking to the door to greet him herself. Rosaline offered a small, polite smile. He didn't look angry? That, she supposed, was a start.

Nim scampered off, back to the kitchen, leaving the witch and wizard alone in the hall.

"Hello, Addreig. I've missed you." He looked good, even in muggle clothing. She noted the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Are those for me?" They were lovely. Wildflowers. Most people usually got her roses. She appreciated the change of pace. Tucking a bit of hair back behind her ear, she stood aside a bit. "Dinner is almost ready, but I have some wine in the living room if you would like to have a glass? I trust that you received my letter? You know.. it's been two months... I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me."

Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised her at all if he were. He witnessed her putting an end to another man's life. If she were him, she might have run for the hills, changed her name, and pretended not to know her at all. Perhaps he was simply a much less cautious person than herself? Hm. Not to mention the fact that they had gotten into an argument. He was jealous that she had taken his younger brother as her "date" to the Regan New Year's Eve party. Honestly, she had assumed that he and Cabhan had both realized that it was not an actual date at all. There was nothing romantic about her and Cabhan's friendship in the least. In fact, she had felt much closer to Addreig recently. They had shared a bed, though it had been completely platonic. He simply hadn't wanted to leave her by herself; perhaps assuming that she had felt some sort of remorse or guilt about murdering Bloodworth. She didn't, of course. But, how was she supposed to tell that to him?

"I hope that you'll enjoy the bottle. My brother, Iago, has sent it to me from his vineyard in Italy."

The door opened to reveal, not Rose but her little house elf. Addreig blinked owlishly down at the creature, a little disappointed that his friend and would be sweetheart had not answered the door, but pleased that at least someone received him and that he was not turned away. He stepped inside and gingerly took off his coat, shrugging it off his shoulders and bending down to hand it carefully to the elf. He smiled weakly and stood up, smoothing out his jumper and was met with Rose who was making her way to the front door. He wasn’t quite sure why the sight of her made him gasp, a quick, sharp intake of breath that he was hoping she wouldn’t notice. A myriad of thoughts was rushing through his head unbidden, many of which he’d buried deep in the back of his mind. Without even realizing what he was doing, he crossed the room in just a few strides and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Rose…I’ve missed you, too.” He said softly as he kissed her cheek, ignoring the fact that he was probably squishing the flowers. He stepped away and looked down at the bouquet, noticing that one of the daisies was hanging feebly. He lifted a finger and poked the blossom, now feeling awkward and more than a little unsure of what to say to her. No, he hadn’t quite forgotten what transpired the night that Rose had killed Bloodworth; he’d simply repressed the memory. It wasn’t an image that he had easily banished from his thoughts, the one of the woman he idolized taking the life of someone else. As he looked at her now, it was still hard for him to believe. It was a wonder that he had even harbored an iota of resentment against her for the perceived slight of Rose taking Cabhan to some silly ball. The two happenings weren’t even remotely on the same plane.

Addreig took a step back and for a moment, envisioned himself taking another step and then another until he was at the door and saw himself turning the knob. He even turned his head slightly and his eyes flit toward the door. He was becoming quite exasperated, if that was even the right word, he couldn’t place his emotions even if he tried. Needless to say, despite the length of time it had been since the two of them had seen each other, Addreig was probably not ready to see her but there was no going back now. He couldn’t leave her after already having ignored her for so long; to leave would be to abandon her and that was one thing that he would not do.

It dawned on him after several minutes that she had spoken to him and he had to push himself to remember her words. He was spurred by them to take note of the flowers again and he smiled sheepishly, holding them out to her. Even before they got into their sorry state, they seemed like a poor consolation for ignoring someone for two months. Regardless, they were a testament to deeper feelings that someone who was usually as cold as Addreig was unable to emote. It wasn’t like Add to feel so vulnerable, so bashful, but Rose did that to him. As to her comment about him avoiding her, he wasn’t sure how to respond to that; did he need to?

“Wine?” Add didn’t so much perk up at that, but he did jump at the opportunity to have something to distract him from the way he was feeling. “What vintage?” Yes Addreig, talk wine, pretend to know wine. “What’s for dinner?”

Rosaline stood there for a moment as the two seemed to study one another. She saw the sharp intake of breath, and a part of her swelled with pride. Perhaps he approved of her appearance, then? Or, of course, it could have been a multitude of other things... She never knew, with him. He was much harder to figure out than his younger brother, though even Cabhan seemed to prove to be a bit of a challenge at times.

Within moments, however, he had strode across the room and pulled her into his arms. She felt his lips on her cheek, and she smiled. So, he didn't hate her? Well, that was good news. Still, he had been gone for two months. He would eventually have to explain himself to her. When he pulled away, her smile grew more amused as she looked at the bouquet that he had held. Her smile faded quickly, however, as she observed him eyeing the door. ...Did he want to leave so soon? Her arms folded neatly over her chest as she basked in her own insecurity.

Eventually, however, he spoke once more. Apparently at least the wine had intrigued him. "I am not entirely sure." To her, after all, alcohol was alcohol. She was not usually a wine person, though with her brother operating his own vineyard she supposed that it was high time to learn. Dinner, though. She knew food. "Filet mignon with mushroom-wine sauce. With mashed potatoes and asparagus. I hope that that is satisfactory?"

Addreig stood there awkwardly, still holding those accursed flowers, his poor attempt at an apology. He couldn’t seem to figure out why she suddenly crossed her arms over her chest and looked so put out. It would make sense if she’d started the night out looking that way, but he had to have done something wrong. Great, he thought sullenly, thoroughly upset with himself. If it weren’t in his interest to always play the picture of a perfect manly man, he might just pout. His eyes scanned the room and spotting an end table, crossed the room and gently set down the flowers. With that out of the way, he turned his attention back to Rose and couldn’t’ help but shrug. With all the pleasantries out of the way and the shroud of uncertainty hanging above them, he found himself at a loss for words. Could it be that after all this time and despite the depth of feeling he’d held for her for so long, that because of what had transpired all those months ago, he no longer felt the same way? Or, was it simply that he still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that someone he held in such esteem could do such a thing? Either way, however much he reached for something to say, words escaped him.

“Hmmmm?” His attention was drawn to her when she spoke again. He hadn’t really expected her to know the age of the wine. It had been, after all, a question devised as a distraction. He smiled wryly at her and shook his head. He had no idea that she was such a gourmand. Filet sounded delicious at the moment; just as she’d said that, his stomach gave an echoing growl. He smiled, patted it, and strode over to the couch where he sat down heavily. The thought of food and alcohol had loosened him up, even before a drop or morsel had even hit his tongue. Taking a deep breath, he gave the seat next to him a pat and beckoned her over.

“That’s more than satisfactory, in fact, that exceeds my expectations,” he teased.

Addreig bounced his knee uneasily. There was still a feeling of tension in the room. At some point, he was certain, she would ask him to explain his absence further. When she did, he wasn’t sure he’d have an adequate answer. Some things couldn’t be explained easily, some things called upon memories that were dark and gritty and that he didn’t necessarily want to call upon; especially, especially not in front of her. He wasn’t sure how he would react to seeing her in person and recounting how he felt when he saw his best friend kill someone so savagely. He did not have a weak stomach by any means, but that still came as a shock, as it would have to anyone in his opinion. As he looked across the room at her, standing there so uneasily, he decided he didn’t want to avoid it any longer.

“Rose, we really need to talk….if you’re ready.” He said quietly, and the desperation in his voice surprised even him. “Unless, you know, you want to eat first.” He waited with bated breath for her answer, hoping that asking her such a question wouldn’t incite her to anger.

Rosaline returned his smile with a little uncertainty. She wasn't really sure why she had expected things to go on as they had before. He had witnessed her nearly decapitate someone. Perhaps he had finally realized what she had surely known from the beginning? He did not actually want her. He did not love her. He merely loved the idea of her; the image that she projected. The image that said, very meekly, I am Rosaline Bane, and I am a delicate little flower. She wasn't. There was something inside of her that wanted to destroy everything that she came across; something that wanted to watch the entire world burn at her feet. She usually did a good job at hiding this. That night, she lost control in a way that she had never done before. She should never have brought him along. He had seen her for what she really was, and she wasn't sure how to go about hiding anymore. He didn't seem willing to let her. And she was scared. It was no wonder, then, that his body language had indicated his desire to leave. If he were a man thinking with his brain, he would have never even come. Could it be, then, that he still desired her? How could he? Well... at least he was satisfied with the dinner menu.

"Thank you." She offered him another small smile as she made her way over to him, slowly, and took a seat on the sofa beside him. "I am glad that I will not have to eat it alone." Though she supposed that she could have owled another friend. Felix, perhaps? They did still need to talk about that new idea.

Of course, Addreig was not about to drop the subject of that night. Or, at least, that was what she was assuming that he wanted to speak about. She looked to him, taking a breath, and she nodded. "Alright. What did you want to talk about?" She was playing dumb. She wanted him to lead the conversation, so that she could properly think on what to say to him. No doubt, he probably still felt as if she must feel guilt about what she had done; some sort of remorse. She did not. She would do it again and again and again if she had to. Rosaline Bane would do anything to protect those that she loved. Anything. And that certainly included ending some insignificant fool's life. She didn't know how he would take that, however. He would most certainly not desire her, then. But, was that what she really wanted?

Sometimes, she had to admit that it was rather nice to have someone who wanted her. The attention that he gave her made her feel special. It made her feel important, and beautiful, and worthy of attention. At the same time, however, she was not sure that it was fair, to him, that he felt in such a way. She had done nothing but reject him, and for rather pitiful reasons. The main thing was that his brother, Cabhan, had also expressed some sort of fondness for her. Cabhan also hated Addreig, and she was very afraid that he would hate her, as well, if she were ever to even so much as entertain the idea of a relationship. Besides that, the idea of an actual, functioning romantic relationship was somewhat foreign to her. Her mother had never set a very good example, and perhaps it was due to that that Rosaline was completely unaware of how to go about achieving one. After all, the closest thing that she had ever had to a boyfriend was merely a fling with Conall. While she cared for the younger boy a great deal, she could not honestly say that she had ever had true feelings for him. Again, she enjoyed the attention that he gave her. She had enjoyed the way that he had made her feel about herself: sexy, desirable, cared for, etc. But, she was certain that she had provided him with the same service. Neither had ever expressed an interest in becoming boyfriend and girlfriend, even with as juvenile as that sounded. Would she ever be able to be normal? Would she ever have a normal, selfless relationship with a man? It seemed a bit far-fetched, at this point, to be honest.

Merlin, she was a mess...

“ I wouldn’t let you be a lone; not tonight. I’m not that callous. Priggish, sometimes, but not callous. Not toward you.”

Addreig shook his head and looked dolefully up at her. His heart felt as if it had taken up permanent residence in the pit of his stomach. So, that was how it was going to be; she was going to defer to him. Why else would she ask such a question? Why would there be any doubt in her mind as to what he wanted to discuss? And what was more, that was all she had to offer – just what do you want to talk about?. Although a moment ago it was as if the feeling of melancholy would never leave him, suddenly Add felt himself getting increasingly more annoyed with her as the seconds wore on. It was becoming increasingly difficult to try to gather his thoughts and moreover, to put them into words. He was flummoxed – he was normally so devoid of feeling and without warning, he was being bombarded by so many varying emotions and it was impossible to pin them down. Letting out a guttural grunt, he held his head in his hands. What is going on with me. Addreig Daley, do not show her this.

With his eyes firmly closed and his hands blocking out any light, images of that night were flashing through his mind, that and images of himself and Rose over the years. His thoughts were racing alongside and as were his emotions but he found the latter to be much changed than they had been before. As to whether that night, his seeing what she’d done, had anything to do with their change, he couldn’t tell her; he did not know. What hadn’t changed was that he still adored her, but it seemed to have morphed into a brotherly love, an admiration of the woman she had become. Addreig had idealized her as a boy, but as a young man he knew that it had only been infatuation bordering on obsession. Even then when they had lain together, side by side, his body intertwined with hers as if he could hold her together – it had only been platonic.

Addreig blinked once, then twice, feeling a sudden wetness on his hands and took them away from his face. Bugger! He hastily wiped them on his hands and hoped against hope that Rose wouldn’t notice although she probably was watching him too intently to not see that he’d shed tears. Addreig Daley, cry? It had been some time since he’d spoken and in his moment of weakness he found a sudden clarity. He knew what he had to say. He had to tell her how he felt, he had to tell her how worried he was about her. It had to be said, there was really no other way around the matter. Addreig couldn’t help but sniff and looked away for a moment so that he could collect himself and wipe a stray tear away from underneath his eye. He hadn’t even had anything to drink yet and already he felt looser and more emotional than he ever remembered feeling in his life.

“Rose,” he began, clearing his throat after hearing how nasally his voice had seemed even to himself. “I’ve been really worried about you – now listen, I know that sounds like a lot of bull shit considering I haven’t been around, but I don’t ever express feelings like that, you know this…it killed me to see what you did, it did. I don’t know how else to say that – you had to have noticed that for once in my life I don’t have a retort or my words already fabricated before I even have something to reply to. When have you seen me at a loss for words?” He paused, caught his breath, put his words in order again.

“So, what do I want to talk about? I want to talk about what happened – have you told anyone else? Have you talked about this? You can’t do something like that and have there be no repercussions. I want to help you…I know I haven’t been there, but I am now. I don’t know in what capacity, I don’t know how to feel, but I’m here. If you’ll have me.”

Addreig felt as if he’d run a marathon. His body, wet from his crying like a child just moments ago, was wet with a light, cold sweat. He had said the words, he very well couldn’t take them back now, now could he? He could tell, even before he’d spoken about it, that there was something making her uneasy. There was no question that after she listened to him, that she would feel even worse and he was prepared for a backlash. He would be pissed if claimed to care after being absent for so long, but Rose was like him, she had a tendency to be sparse with her feelings, though she did emote much more than he did. All Add could do was just sit there and take whatever she threw at him. He dug his nails into his palm instead and dropped his gaze, looking away from her like a pup would do when scolded by its owner. He was folding embarrassingly under pressure, vulnerable and suddenly felt miserably alone.

“I’m sorry…”

He wouldn't let her be alone, hm? Oh, she had only been alone for two months while he was likely replacing her. Rosaline kept her cool, however, and merely offered a small, polite smile. He seemed... off. This was her fault. She had finally destroyed him. There was little doubt in her mind that his absence had had everything to do with what she had done. He had adored her, before. He had wanted to be with her. And now... now, he seemed distant. Her face contorted into an expression of concern, but the rest of her body was not quite sure what to do.

"Addreig..." She frowned, and her hand reached out to gently rub his back. He was crying. Rosaline had never been very good with emotions; not even her own. She was not sure how to handle this, especially with her resentment of him growing. Perhaps this had been a mistake? She should have just left him well enough alone.

The potion-maker withdrew her hand as he began to speak, and she braced herself for his words. Anger rose up, once more, and she could feel her lips pursing with every syllable. He would never understand. She listened, and her hands folded in her lap tightly. "You've certainly seemed worried, in your absence." Biting her lip for a moment, in thought, she continued. "You needn't worry about me, regardless. I am sorry that my actions seem to have affected you so deeply. However, I had done what I had to do." Her voice came out hollow and cold. This was the monster that she was. He had seen it, already, and there was no hiding anymore.

"Of course I haven't told anyone. Not anyone besides Grandfather, at least." Was he really so stupid? "There is nothing to talk about, Addreig. And why do I need to face repercussions? I did nothing wrong. I protected myself, and I protected my family." Her frustration finally reached her face, and her body acted accordingly as she stood and turned to face him. "I do not regret killing Bloodworth. I would do it again in a second, if I needed to." She stood there, likely shattering his image of her further. At this point, however, the facade that she had put on was likely beyond repair, regardless. There was no salvaging it. All that she could do was hope that he would do well enough at keeping his mouth shut.

"..You haven't told anyone, have you?" No. No, he couldn't be that dim. He had to know that she would have to deal with whoever he had told if, indeed, he had told anyone. Even so, there was no way that he would have used her name. Right? She imagined him, drinking with one of his bimbos, and crying to them about his best friend. No. He wouldn't. He had to know what she would have to do, if he did such a thing. Panic settled into her mind, and her hands clenched into fists. Her chest rose and fell faster than normal, and her teeth bit into her lip for a moment.

"Tell me that you did not tell anyone, Addreig."

There was no hiding it; when she reached to touch his back, a touch that normally would have been welcome and long awaited, he recoiled. He himself felt his back muscles tighten and knew that with her hand there, she was sure to have felt it, too. He winced, not because of her touch but to brace himself for her reaction, whatever that may be. It wasn’t going to be positive, he knew that much. Before he could even think further on the matter, she was speaking and her words were poisonous, biting. She’d removed her hand and it felt for all the world as if it had been swung back and released, slapping into his face. His eyes widened as she spoke, taking in her stance and her slowly pursing lips that signaled that she seemed to be growing more irritated with every word. Uh oh, he thought to himself, any overly emotional feelings suddenly leaving him as he steeled himself against any further bitter words.

“Tell anyone?” He began, when she addressed him. He knew better than to ignore this question; as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t because he’d told anyone, not at all, he simply had a sinking suspicion that she wouldn’t believe anything he told her – for two reasons. One, because of his long absence and secondly, because of his drastic change in feelings since he’d arrived. Truth be told, being in the same room with her and having time to think, to feel, to process everything – he’d found it difficult to call up his “childhood fancy” and any feelings he’d had for her before the murder. Despite everything, he still thought highly of her. He didn’t see that changing any time soon, regardless of what she’d done; things were just different.
“Of course I didn’t tell anyone – I may be a really shoddy friend sometimes and maybe I abandoned you…” He frowned then, “but I wouldn’t sell you out like that. I hope you believe that. I don’t know how I could convince you.”

He straightened up and looked over at her, not really sure of what to say to her. He was very much taken aback by her behavior and by her words. She was scaring him and Addreig Daley was not easily rattled, not usually anyway. Her words, her expression, the way her fists were clenched, her rapid breathing, all combined had him wishing he could let his eyes wander to the front door again. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed resolutely on hers and was doing his best to remain calm himself, one of them had to have a level head. Otherwise, there would be chaos or worse, one of them would get hurt whether it be physically, or emotionally. Deep down, he knew that he’d already hurt her and probably damaged their relationship irreparably. It was an inward battled for him to not get up and hold her, not romantically in any way, but as a friend might embrace another when they know that they’re hurting. He couldn’t bring himself to get up though, so he sat there like a fool instead.

“I’m not that daft, Rosaline.” He retorted, his own tone rife with a certain hint of bitterness if for no other reason than because she would dare doubt him. “I only asked, speaking about your family mind you, because I know I wasn’t there but someone else should have been, if not so much to confide in them as to figure out what would happen if someone got on your trail. I’m not implying that you’re helpless in any way, but no one should have to do that themselves – especially since you say you did it to protect your family. I don’t know if you even want my advice, but I’m giving it to you anyway.”

With that, Addreig felt he couldn’t sit there any longer. He stood up and walked around her, suddenly finding that he needed something, anything to distract him. He went into the kitchen and rooted around until he saw what must be the bottle of wine that she mentioned. It was already opened, he figured she was imbibing before he arrived, so he searched the cabinets until he found a clean wine glass. He knew he was being bold, rude even, but he didn’t care. They may be at odds now, their relationship may have been altered permanently, but he still had known her for so many years he felt he was comfortable enough to be able to serve himself. Regardless of the decorum of it, he knew that she probably would rather slap him than play hostess so he poured himself a glass, recorked the bottle and turned back to where he’d left her in the living area.

“Pardon my rudeness, but I find fighting to be thirsty work.” He remarked as he swirled his glass. His eyes fixed on hers, as if daring her to say anything, he took a sip and swallowed. “I know you probably have more to say, so say it now. I’m not leaving tonight until we figure things out.”

Rosaline's eyes had widened a little in a mixture of both bewilderment and despondency as she felt her friend flinch away from her. In truth, it had stung more than his absence. She could not allow herself to wallow in self-pity, however, at this sudden and unexpected loss.

Her brown eyes scanned over his face, and she analyzed every micro-expression thoroughly. Her face and posture relaxed. He was telling the truth. Smart. She gave a simple nod and brushed a loose bit of hair back behind her ear. "Alright." That would suffice. Unfortunately, however, she could also tell that she had frightened him. It was really no surprise, that he should be afraid, after what he had seen. He knew, now, just what she was capable of. He would be stupid not to be afraid, she supposed. Still, she was wounded.

"Alright." She offered up a smile which did not quite reach her eyes, and gave another nod. "I believe you." This was too much, all at once. "I am fine, Addreig. I assure you." This was too intense for the reunion that she had hoped for. She should have never invited him, and she doubted that she would, again, for quite some time. It was best, now, to distance herself. She realized that, now. She had caused irreparable damage. There was no fixing this. They were broken.

She watched as he stood, and she sidestepped out of his way. With a soft sigh, she returned to the couch and folded her hands neatly into her lap once more. Part of her wished that he would just leave. She wanted to be alone, but at the same time she did not want to be alone. If she were honest with herself, she would realized that it was that she longed for the company of someone else; someone who would understand. However, she knew that there were very few people in her life who would understand.

Upon his return, she simply shook her head. "I have nothing more to say. I do apologize for my outburst... I only had to be sure.."