The Stress of Moving

is really getting to me.

I was sick with bronchitis/ a throat infection(I believe I was, anyway. I couldn't go to the doctor) two weeks ago, and am still slowly getting over it. I'm sure the reason I'm not healed is because I literally have no time to actually rest. Between packing/moving my furniture and boxes into Love's house, work, cooking, cleaning, and pass-out sessions that really don't help at all, I feel even more run down than I did when I was sick.

I have until tomorrow to get the rest of my crap out of my house, and I can't even do that because I work 2-11. The moving truck for my parents comes on Tuesday around 8 in the morning, leaving very little time for my dad to help me bring everything over. My coworkers have helped, but I still have the bulk of my furniture- my computer desk, hutches, and dresser- to move, and all the people with trucks can't help me until it's too late.

Plus, the fears of being on my own are getting to me. It's not necessarily myself that I'm worried about, either. With me staying here and my sister moving to Florida, my mom won't have any of her children close to her. And with my dad working 24/7 as a district manager, he'll barely be home. What if she gets incredibly sick again and no one can take care of her? I was able to help her last time, being able to go to the store and buy her what she needed, and cook for her and keep the house and cats under control. But she won't have me to look after her. It terrifies me to think that something could happen to her that wouldn't have if I moved in with them.

Love is making things much easier to take, though. I have no doubts about living with him, though it will take a bit of getting used to. He's done so much for us already regarding the whole moving situation, and just today he mowed the lawn for us. He's been reassuring me that everything will be alright, and I believe him. I met his father for the first time yesterday. He seemed genuinely happy because I made his son happy, and was glad that I was moving in. That also gave me a tiny bit of peace-of-mind.

I'm still worried, stressed, and probably won't be able to have a day to myself for a looooooooooong while, but I have hope that everything will be alright.

Too Cold For Angels to Fly, Chapter Four

We get back to the house in an hour's time, and not a moment too soon. My phone starts ringing as soon as I get into the driveway. Turning the car off, I reach into my pocket and answer, glancing at Angel. It was obvious that it was Jan on the phone, and with a little smirk, she got out of the car and walked into the house, leaving me to the conversation.

"The bitch still there? That's probably why you didn't call me all day." Jan's furious. I sigh, explain what happened only to get a bitter laugh in response. "Should've known it. She finally realized her calling."

"What the hell, Janna!" I snap, accidentally honking the horn out of my own anger. I sigh, trying to calm myself down. "I know you two don't get along, but this is serious. She's been on the streets for years, no one to turn to, a complete wreck. Why are you being so heartless?"

"I'm not losing you to her again." her voice is grave, the tiniest hint of a sob shining through on the last word."That little harlot almost destroyed our friendship in college. I'm not letting her get in the way of our life as a family."

I try to remain calm, rubbing my temple with the palm of my hand. "I understand. But promise me, love, you have nothing to worry about. We'll talk about this more when I pick you up from the airport tomorrow. Will you be okay flying?"

"Yes."

"Good. Call me when your flight takes off and I'll pick you up. I'll take you out for an early dinner at Olive Garden, just the two of us, alright?." I wait for a response, and receive a slightly happier Jan. "That's my girl. I love you very much. I'll text you tonight." I hang up, take a deep breath, and go back inside to face Angel. I already feel dead from the past few days, the energy sucked right out of me and replaced with concentrated stress.

 I open the door to find her in the dining room, two bowls on the counter, making her favorite sundae- key lime pie ice cream on top of a brownie with whipped cream and pieces of chocolate-covered waffle bowl. She looks so innocent, completely focused on the sundae, not even bothering to acknowledge me. I walk up to the counter and start making my own, a simple vanilla-chocolate sundae in a chocolate-covered waffle bowl with Hershey's syrup, and by the time I'm done, she's already scarfing her sundae down. I find myself laughing, and she just looks up at me confused, a piece of waffle cone hanging out of her mouth. Just like the good old high school days. Before Jan, before love, before life. We hold a semi-casual conversation about food while we finish our dessert, not once mentioning the clinic or her struggles. I'm a bit relieved, in all honesty. I'm too beat to deal with anything more today. I glance at the clock, four thirty, and silently consider taking a nap. She speaks.

"You look Zombified. You wanna go take a nap?" She puts her empty bowl in the sink, then makes her way to the couch. "I'll just chill here while you sleep. I might pass out myself."

I nod once, taking the last spoonful of ice cream. "I think that'd be best. I have to pick Jan up from the airport tomorrow around four, so you know." She suddenly tenses, digging her nails into her skin. I try not to pay much attention to it, putting my dish in the sink. "I'm going to be taking her out for supper. And then the day after I have to go back to work.."

"Will she really be okay with me staying here? I haven't been in the same room with her since Graduation, and even then we barely saw each other. She still hates me."

"I.. don't know." I sigh, leaning against the dining room wall. "She's upset that you've shown up unannounced. But she knows what you're going through."

"You told her?" She's angry, terrified, and now clawing her skin open. I walk up to her and take her hand, holding it away from the broken skin. She must be malnourished, for it to break that easily. I shake my head. "You know she's going to act as if I deserve this." It's almost as if she knows her better than I do.

"I needed to tell her. And I won't let her badmouth you, okay? You two can be civil, at least until the test results come back. I'll help you search for a place to live when the time comes." I slowly release her hand, and she runs it through her hair.

"Whatever. You go take your nap." Her eyes avoid mine as she says this, and I can't tell what she's thinking or planning. As much as I want to keep an eye on her, I'm fading fast. I simple nod, give her a weak hug, and trudge down to the hall to my bed.

I hit the bed, and completely black out.

Move Me.

While I was at the Steam Punk World's Fair on the 18th, I just so happened to see a musical artist by the name of Unwoman. In her little concert she played the electric cello and sang.

When I tell you this person is amazing, I truly mean it. With the voice of Bernadette Peters(one of my favourite actresses) and such a gift with the cello and piano, she gives me chills. I felt tranced while I was at the live.

And now, listening to her complete discography which I ordered on her official site in the form of a crystal USB, I'm being moved all over again. I could sit here in a mesmerized daze, wrapped in her music. She has such an impact on me that I cannot explain.

I feel a wave of emotions coming up out of nowhere, being sparked by each note, each lyric. Emotions and memories I never thought I could experience. I'm inspired. Frightened. Excited. Calm. Shaking. Still. I am all of these things at once from one talented person. Each song brings something new to me. I feel like drawing, writing, dancing, playing piano, anything I can to express how she makes me feel, and yet I'm frozen by the music. Suspended in her thoughts, her voice. Submerged in emotion.

It takes a lot to move me. But it takes even more to keep me still. And she has done both.

Official site- http://unwoman.com/index.html

Song I'm currently listening to- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n33uu8nuoZQ

Live footage- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jseFJYszyxc

Funny Little Crush:.

Not a real crush, but more of a celebrity one. As in, you know that you would never be with that person due to obvious reasons, but it makes you happy to crush over them, and you know it won't develop into anything more, so you let it happen anyway. The kind of crush that's fun to have. This is how it is with a co-worker of mine.

He is probably the cutest person(minus one girl whom I worked with while she was training to go to a different store, but I digress) that I've worked with in my three years at said store. Very sarcastic, outgoing, charismatic, and never fails to bring a smile to your face. He's that type of guy who can make friends just by walking into a room, not necessarily for his looks, but just because he's that genuine of a person. I find myself cheering silently when I get to work with him, and slightly sad when he leaves as I go in or vice-versa.

Oddly enough, he's like Life Support and Hex mixed into one. Only without the mysterious quality that both share. He's genuine through-and-through, and that may be why I find him so adorable. We have a little rivalry going on when we're on register, and it's quite enjoyable. Makes each hour there worth it, ya know? Even today, or rather especially today, while I was coughing up a storm and still not in my best of health. Working with him helped me through it. ^^

I'm really happy to have met this kid, and I'm just gonna let this little crush happen as I live the rest of my life.

Too Cold for Angels to Fly, Chapter 3

By the time I clear the snow off the car and we take off, it's 1pm. "You can put the radio on or shuffle through my iPod, if you want." My eyes don't leave the road until we're at the first light, then I chance looking in her direction. She takes a small orange iPod out of her jacket to my surprise, and pops it in. I look back to the road the moment it turns green, and keep my eyes on the road as we talk. "That's the same one you had in college, isn't it?"

"Surprised you remember. It was the only thing I didn't sell." She's starting to be more open to me regarding her situation. Too bad this really isn't the time I want to hear it. I keep focused on the road as she scrolls through her song list, landing on a very fitting song, The A Team by Ed Sheeran. She's lost in the lyrics, as if the artist wrote that song about her, and I really can't take it anymore. I don't want to accept what she's become. I don't want to know why, or how, or when, or what she's suffering from because of it. She could be rotting from STDs, drug withdrawal, hell, she could be pregnant for all I know. I can't concentrate on the road anymore, and park at the nearest store.Her voice is shaky. "Oliver?"

I scrunch my face with my hands, trying to clear my thoughts. She changes the song, something less depressing, and looks down at her lap. "I'm sorry." I mutter, taking a deep breath. "I didn't sleep well last night."

"I should be apologizing. I'm sure you could care less about this right now. I mean, this isn't a joyride to a casino or park." She pauses, looking out the window. "I wouldn't go through all this trouble if I were you. You have too much else to worry about. Too much to be excited for, to plan for. I'm a lost cause, Olli."

"No you're not." My words are strong. I look at her, but yet again she hides her eyes. She won't even meet my reflection through the window. "If you were a lost cause, I wouldn't have let you in. Wouldn't give a damn about throwing you into the cold without knowing where the hell you'd end up. You could've been dead these past few years and I never would have known!" Crap, I'm practically sobbing. The fact that she feels so worthless is pissing me off, making me even more at fault. I don't want to care. I don't want to worry. But I can't not worry about my best friend. Yes, she's still my best friend, after all these years. We sit in silence for a moment before I finally regain my composure, and back out of the parking lot. I avoid conversation, she avoids melancholy tunes, and we finish the rest of the drive in silence and confusion.

We arrive at the clinic after an exhausting car ride, right on schedule. We make our way inside in silence, with her leading the way. She glances back every so often, and I reassure her that I'm staying by her side. The waiting room  is that of a doctor's office, all pearl white walls and the light smell of lavender. She tenses up as she makes her way to the receptionist's desk, leaving me the honour of signing her in. The receptionist I spoke with on the phone was at the front desk, and welcomed us warmly, trying to hide her look of pity for Angel. "Will this be your first time getting an examination done?" Angel merely nods, blush spread upon her cheeks. The woman smiles and reaches out a hand for comfort. "It's nothing to be embarrassed or nervous about, dear. The procedures are simple, completely confidential, and we'll answer any and all questions you may have. Now before you see the doctor we'd like to run a blood test and get a urine sample. Is that alright?" she nods again, receiving another smile as a nurse meets her and escorts her into another room. The receptionist looks at me. "This might take a while, sweet. Make yourself comfortable, and don't worry about a thing."

I try not to. I genuinely do. Yet with posters and pamphlets in every corner, and the thoughts that still haunt me from the car ride, it isn't the easiest thing. I sit for a few minutes, pace for others, check the time more frequently than when I'm waiting for the oven timer to go off. After what feels like a full day of waiting, she's escorted out of the room, face scarlet with blush. "Thank you." she whispers to the nurse and receptionist, who smile back.

"As promised, we'll call you as soon as we receive your results. If you need anything in the meantime, don't hesitate to call." The nurse hands her a card and a pamphlet before disappearing into the back. I put an arm around Angel to comfort her and, with a quick 'thank you' to the receptionist, we hurry out of the building. I don't ask her anything until we're both settled in the car.

"How'd it go?"

"Okay." she whispers. I cannot tell if she's being embarrassed or evasive, but I decide not to pester her anymore. She starts to open up as we drive. "They started with a simple interview before any tests were done, to make sure there wasn't something specific to check for. I'm not gonna get into the rest of the details, don't want you throwing up on your ride." We share a laugh before the mood turns bittersweet.

"And they have a number to reach you by?" From the corner of my eye I see her nod, and she taps on the jacket that they somehow let her keep.

"One of my clients gave me a phone to keep in contact. I just gave them that number." we reach a red light. I glance over at her, and she's looking out the window, clutching the phone. Her voice is frail yet again, her eyes shielded by her chestnut locks. "Probably not the best idea, though. If that phone rings and he hears it.."

"You're not going back to that lifestyle." Protective Oliver takes over, the tyrant that cares a bit too much.. Or do I? I mean, any other reasonable friend wouldn't want their other friend to be sleazing around with strange men for a couple hundred bucks, sometimes not even that. To be treated like a toy, a tool.. It drives me up the wall to think that such a lifestyle exists. For once, she doesn't protest. We drive in silence yet again, until I find the proper words. "If any of your clients call you, or look for you, I'll drive them off."

"You'd be killed."

"Better me than you."

Silence. I hear her starting to breathe heavy, said breathing turning into a cough, and go lighter on the gas pedal. The roads are still free of traffic. "Are you okay? I'll stop at a convenience store on the way home so you can get something to drink. We can get ice cream or something too. Perhaps make cookie sundaes?" I think back to the things that used to cheer her up, and sure enough, just the idea starts to do the trick.

"Thank you.Olli."

Too Cold For Angels to Fly, Continued

It's around ten in the morning when I decide to crawl out of bed. I barely slept, too busy thinking about the events from earlier. I must've checked on Angel at least four times,too, in fear that she would wake up and leave. I couldn't imagine what she would end up doing on her own, what she has been doing the past.. how long has she been prostituting? The thought sickens me, and the images flittering through my mind only add to the nausea. I pee, brush my teeth, and carefully pick up the coat that she left on the bathroom floor before going into the living room. She's still asleep, practically burying her face into the blanket, one leg sticking out of her little burrito. I can't help but laugh to myself- this is the girl I remember, the girl I lived with close to eight years ago. Huh, I never even realized it was that long.. We were 19 when we shared an apartment, in our first year of college. She graduated with her bachelors at 22, five years ago, while the rest of us pursued our Masters.To think that I really haven't seen her since then, that I was a stranger from then to now, is unsettling.

I shake my thoughts off and go right to work on finding the nearest clinic, as I promised her. About an hour away, but there probably won't be any traffic due to the blizzard. I look out the window and see the snow finally stopped, all of the cars still bombarded in it, but the roads have been salted an cleared. I make the call in my office on the other side of the house so she doesn't hear, and explain the best I could to the receptionist. I'm relieved to hear genuine concern in her voice simply because that means they won't cut any corners in examining her, and thank the lady several times before I end the call. They fit her in for a two o-clock appointment, leaving time for me to fix breakfast and let her sleep a bit more before we have to leave.  I don't waste any time as I prepare our breakfast, a bacon-and-cheddar omelet with a side of fruit. I hope she can stomach it, as I really don't know how her diet has been. I set the table, fix a cup of ginger ale for her and coffee for me, and make my way over to the couch once everything is ready.

"Good morning Angel." My voice is soft as I gently stroke her hair, receiving a slight groan in response. She shifts so her face is in the couch cushion, and I can't help but chuckle. "Your breakfast is getting cold."

She slowly perks her head up at the word breakfast, blinks a few times, and assesses where she is. It takes her a second to remember, and sighs, picking herself off the couch and unraveling from her blanket. "You didn't have to cook anything, Oliver." She mumbles as she hypocritically walks over to the table, holding her stomach. "But thank you." She adds, and without any hesitation starts to dig in. I join her, all the while watching in amusement as she scarfs her food down.

"Careful, A. You'll end up swallowing the fork too." She looks up at me with a sarcastic smile, shoving another piece of egg down her throat. She finishes the whole thing before I even finish half. I offer her some more fruit, and she nods, eating practically everything that I give her. I dare to ask, "When did you actually eat a full meal last?" She shrugs, fork-in-hand, and pops one last strawberry in her mouth.

"Atleast a month." She answers mid-chew, looking away. I finish my meal in silence s she stares at her glass of ginger ale. When I finish, almost instinctively, she stands up and grabs our plates and puts them in the sink before I can even protest. "You've done so much for me already. I should atleast clean up before I leave."

"I hope you don't assume you're leaving today. As I told you, I'm taking you to the clinic. Jan'll bite my head off, but I'd feel safer if you stay until your results come in." She looks uneasy as she hears this, and our eyes meet again. She remains quiet, her gaze not leaving mine, then sighs in defeat.

"Thank you." The only two words she can muster, yet I know there's much more she's wanting to say. I pat her shoulder, smile, and start going into the hallway.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind. The remote's on top of the TV, feel free to watch it while you wait." She nods with a quiet thank you, and by the time I return, she's glued to the Nicktoons channel with the most relaxed face I've seen since I let her in. I never realized how cute she was, all frumped up in that purple sweatsuit, her hair tucked behind her ears, hands on her knees as she watches a rerun of Fairly Oddparents. Jan would gauge my eyes out if she knew what I was thinking. I don't blame her. I startle Angel with a sigh, our eyes meet again, and the two of us laugh nervously. "Sorry." I flip open my phone, and see that somehow it's already close to one. "We should get going, your appointment is at two." I look her top-to-bottom again. "Are you alright in those? I'll grab you one of my jackets too."

"I'm perfectly fine with the one I brought, thank you." I hear a bit of stubbornness in her tone, and knowing I can't argue, I fetch the old thing for her. It smells like booze, drugs, and semen. How the hell does she wear this? I want to protest, but she grabs it and throws it on before I can even say a word. Looks like Jan's not getting her sweats back. I can't help but chuckle, and she raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head, grab my jacket and keys, and unlock the door.

And thus begins the most unsettling hour in a car in my entire life.

Too Cold for Angels to Fly:.Random Story Scene

There were days where I imagined meeting her again, but never like this. It's been about five or so years after we graduated college, the whole lot of us. I haven't spoken to her, let alone seen her, since we parted ways in every meaning. I ended up married and expecting before I even knew it, with a steady job at a research lab, but as for her.. well, I never expected to see her at my doorstep on such a winter's night.

She leaves a gentle knock on the door, three soft thumps. It is about twenty past midnight, and the noise caught me just as I was about to go to bed. "Just a minute." I call, not hearing anything in reply. For the heck of it I glance out the window to look for a car, but see nothing that hasn't been covered by a mound of snow. I simply shrug it off and make my way over to the door. Before I unlock it I speak again. "Who's there?"

"A friend." Her voice is soft yet gravely, as if she hadn't slept in weeks, but just from her tone I know immediately who it is. I feel myself tense up as I reach for the lock, and try to keep calm as I  look at my former best friend. She's shorter than I remember, her once short hair is now in dark tangles down to her elbows. She's covered from the neck down in a large man's leather coat, completely zipped so that all you can see of her body was her feet, adorned with black heels. She refuses to look up at me, staring at her feet the whole time, and steps inside. I close the door behind her, yet keep it unlocked as I fish for something to say. She does so for me. "It's been a long while, Oliver. Forgive me for stopping by so late, and unanounced. I haven't your number anymore."

She's talking way too formally, carefully. Sure we didn't end on the best of terms, but it's obvious something's not right by the way she picks her words, and how she still won't look up at me. I motion to the couch. "Have a seat. Want some tea or anything?"

"A beer, if you please." She's not joking. I shake my head, but oblige, all the while looking at her. This wasn't the sweet, sarcastic, friendly girl that braved through high school with me, the girl I actually shared an apartment with during our first year of college. This was a broken soul, a mysterious stranger with the voice of an Angel. After getting her one and myself a bottle of coke, I sit opposite of her and try to make our eyes meet. Her stubbornness is the only quality she still has, it seems, as she still won't grant me her gaze. I sigh.

"So what brings you here, Angel? Or rather a lighter question to start out, how did you get here?" She doesn't make a sarcastic comeback at my own remark. After taking a long, savoring sip of the beer, she answers.

"Just felt like reconnecting with a familiar face is all. I was passing by on my walk home.."

"Walk? In this snowstorm? It's bad enough to be driving out there." I don't know how I didn't notice this, but she's sopping wet and shivering from the cold. Without a second thought I get up to grab her a towel. "Were you on your way home from work?" I call from the hallway.

"You could say that." I cringe at those words, feeling the worst possible meaning behind them. I sigh, making my way back with a towel and a blanket. She thanks me quietly as she dries her hair, draping the blanket over the rest of her. "But enough about me. What's new in your world?"

She's starting to warm up to me. Chuckling inwardly at my own pun, I smile lightly, looking towards a picture on the wall. "I'm married now. I've been for about two years, and my wife's expecting a baby." Probably not what she wanted to hear, especially considering her current condition, but it's the first thing that popped into my head. "I've been working for the research lab down the street as well, practically right after college."

She smiles, yet it doesn't shine through to her voice. "I knew you'd get that job.. It's all you ever talked about once we were in college." She remains quiet for a minute, then quickly glances up at me before looking right back down at the ground. "You seem to be doing just fine."

"And you?"

This time she shoots me a look, and our eyes finally meet. I see such pain, weakness in these eyes that I haven't seen since the day she moved out of my apartment. I feel a stab of guilt stronger than any knife, and she can tell. With a sigh she looks away,smoothing out her hair. "..I've had my hardships. But I'm alive, that's all that matters, right? Anyway, where's the lucky woman now? She'd probably flip seeing you with me.. It's Jan, isn't it?" I've almost forgotten that they knew each other.

"Yes. And she's visiting her parents right now. But enough about her, enough about me. Something's not right, and I want you to tell me."

"Bossy as ever, huh." I don't know if it's her or the beer talking, as this is the kind of remark I'd expect from her years ago. She takes a deep breath, stretches out the exhale as if taking a drag from a cigarette. "Let's just say I'm not doing as well as I should."

"Elaborate."

Silence.

"Angel!" I'm getting ticked off now, and I'm just about to pester her more when I see a tear stream down her left cheek. She shakes her head violently, trying her hardest not to cry, stifling her sobs. My expression softens and I walk up to her, putting a hand gently on her shoulder and kneeling down to meet her gaze. Only now is it evident from being this close that she reeks of sex and abuse. I bite my lip, shaking my head. "Angel.. You haven't.." I then realize she hasn't taken her jacket off. Pain strikes me again. "Are you wearing clothes underneath that?"

She shakes her head again, eyes closed, tears falling. I want to cry too, realizing that my best friend.. my first love.. was consumed by demons, her own and those of hungry men. My Angel, tainted by the devil.Part of me knows I'm the one to blame. I hold her close, cradle her in my arms for what seems like an eternity before she gently pushes away from me. "I should leave."

I look at the clock, a few minutes past one. The storm is still howling out there, and from the looks of it, she doesn't have a home to go back to. I shake my head, looking into her eyes and brushing her tears away. "I can't let you leave in your state. I'm calling Jan up, and you're staying here for the night.. You can go take a bath and borrow our clothes. "

"I really--"

"I am not throwing you back on the streets!" I dare raise my voice at her, and feel tears start to threaten my eyes. "I'm getting you to a clinic in the morning, whether you like it or not. We're getting you checked, and then I'm getting you help. And there's nothing you can say to change that." I calm myself down, not once taking my eyes off of her."Please, Angel. Let me help."

She takes a deep breath, and exhales away from me so I don't smell the alcohol any more than I already do. "I have no choice, do I?" Somehow her playful tone is back, and I can't help but smile. I help her to the bathroom, tell her to call me if she needs anything, and make my way to the phone. Jan's gonna be pissed, not just because it's the middle of the night, but because of who it is. Those two really never were the friendliest to each other, to put it lightly. I wait to hear the sound of running water before I dial the number. The phone rings four times and is answered mid-fifth.

"Babe..? What the hell are you calling me for this early?"

I take a deep breath. "I got an unexpected visit from an old friend who really isn't in the best of shape. I wanted you to know I'm letting her spend the night. If I could lend her--"

"HER? Oh don't tell me it isn't that bitch from your past." I figured she'd say something like that, and I just let her finish ranting before I continue.

"She's in a horrible place right now, Janny. And with the blizzard outside, I can't just throw her back out on the streets. I promise you nothing will happen. May I borrow some clothes for her?"

She sighs loudly, making my ear twitch. "Yeah, whatever. Give her that ugly purple set your mom got me for Christmas. I trust you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Love you." I hang up the phone, laughing a tiny bit at her closing remarks. The water has stopped running by the end of my ten minute call. I knock gently on the bathroom door. "You okay in there, A?"

"I'm fine. Thank you." She's starting to sound much better already, and I can't help but smile.

"You want anything to eat? I could whip something up for you."

"Nah. Just clothes and a nap will be more than enough." She goes underwater for a minute, making me nervous, but comes up with a small splash and an added "Thank you". I run and fetch the pair of sweats that Jan 'graciously' gave up, which weren't even taken out of the box, grab a spare towel and new toothbrush from the towel closet, And knock on the door again.

"I have a spare towel for you, and a toothbrush and the clothes. should I just leave them outside the door?" I hear the drain being pulled out of place and a splash of water before she asks me to pass it to her when she opens the door. I listen carefully, making sure that she doesn't slip or fall, and after I give her the items I make my way back to the living room. I'm still trying to wrap my head around all that went on, simply because I didn't expect it. A part of me felt like I was solely to blame for her path choices, not her. That if she didn't leave all those years ago, if I didn't make her leave, she would still be fine. Even if we weren't together, she wouldn't have gotten into her old ways. Wouldn't have been jobless and forced to sell herself to make it by. I lean against the front door, itching for a cigarette, but I fight my urge. I gave it up for Jan's sake and the baby's sake. I wonder, would I have given it up if it was Angel?

Would I have married Angel? Damn it brain, it doesn't matter anymore. I left her. She didn't believe in marriage anyway, and I'm sure she didn't think that we'd last anyway. I didn't. I didn't..

"What are you doing?"

I jump out of my skin, slapping the door out of surprise, making her jump as well. "Oh crap, sorry. You startled me." I look her over from top to bottom. Funny enough she actually makes the sweats work for her, despite them being a bit over-sized. Her hair is slightly less tangled, almost straightened, from the water, and her skin is clear and clean. Amazing what a bath can do, huh? She smiles at me, and I immediately smile back. "You should get to bed. It's late."

"Alright." She plops on the couch without a second thought, burritos herself into the blanket(like how she used to when we lived together), and closes her eyes. I turn off the light, lock the door, and start heading to my room when I hear her soft, sweet voice.

"None of this is your fault. I just want you to know that."

And with that, she falls asleep.