'You may not come running to me again. Not with your problems. Not with your love.'
"Alex, I really don't think this is necessary, I'm okay now I-"
"Piper, would you stop, please?" Alex sighed as she turned the key in the door and opened it, gesturing for me to enter her apartment. I stood still on the spot, watching as Alex arched her eyebrow at me and sighed tiredly again. "Piper, really? What am I supposed to do when I walk past the girl I met in the bar a few weeks ago, crying hysterically in the blizzard that has literally brought New York to a standstill?"
"I don't know," I mumbled weakly, smiling softly at Alex before walking past her and into the heat of her apartment. I felt my frozen feet and fingers beginning to thaw, tugging Alex's scarf that she had given me from around my neck. "I could be a murderer or a psychopath for all you know…"
"Are you?" Alex stopped and asked as she was taking her coat off, laughing softly when I just shook my head and stood awkwardly at the entrance of her apartment. She chuckled when she noticed how uncomfortable I was, grabbing my hand pulling me over to the couch. "Sit here while I get wine, then you can maybe explain to me why you were drowning in your own tears just then."
I looked around her apartment when Alex disappeared into the kitchen, glancing at the pictures of Alex with an older woman who was clearly her mother from the exact same smug grin that was apparent on the woman's face. I could hear the sound of wine glasses being clanked together in the kitchen while I ran my hands over my uniform for work. When Alex reappeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses I smiled at her softly, hoping the wine would disperse the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach and making me feel nauseous. Alex just grinned at me as she poured the wine, handed me a glass, and sat back on the couch, waiting for me to speak. I took a large gulp of the wine, letting it slide down my throat before clearing my throat as I ran my finger around the rim of the glass to distract myself.
"I was just having a bad day, that's all," I muttered, looking up to see her trade mark arch of an eyebrow, sighing as I looked into her deep green eyes, "I had just spent eight hours having my ass grabbed my men old enough to be my dad, all of whom thought it was perfectly acceptable to also smack it, and it just got to me I guess. Plus my hair stinks of the burgers, so that always makes me feel sick." I shrugged my shoulders and took another mouthful of the wine and watched Alex sip at hers slowly, her eyes always watching me and making me squirm on the couch. I didn't feel uncomfortable under the watch though, I felt special in some weird way.
"Why is a Smith grad like you, who has excellent listening skills may I add, waitressing in a diner anyway?" Alex laughed, making my blush slightly at the memory of the last time I had been speaking to her, when she had teased me in the bar. I let out a deep breath and just shrugged my shoulders again, not knowing how to answer the question I asked myself constantly.
"I don't know. I was round at Polly's a few weeks ago, this was before she became the self-centred bitch she has been recently, and I may have drank too much wine. Anyway, we were watching the first couple episodes of Friends, you know the ones where Rachel cuts herself off from her dad so that she can be more independent?" I waited for a little nod from Alex to show she was keeping up before carrying on, "And I guess in some heat of the moment idea, Polly managed to persuade me to ring my dad and cut myself off from him. I thought it was going swimmingly until I paid my rent for my shitty apartment where the heating doesn't even work, afterwards realising I didn't have enough money to even buy food. I refused to ring my dad back and grovel, so the job at the diner was the only one I could find."
"Hence the crying in the street," Alex spoke, laughing softly when I just nodded. I followed Alex's eyes to my uniform, ignoring her smirk when she took in the tiny skirt and knee high socks that made me feel like I was cheerleader in High School again. "You can have a shower here, you know."
"What?"
"To get rid of the smell of burgers… You can use my shower. I'm very friendly like that, sharing is caring," Alex winked at me before leaning forward and filling the wine glasses again. I frowned at her and just shook my head, confused by this entire situation.
"I think I should probably be going." I spoke, setting my wine glass down on the glass table in front of me and moving to get up, but stopping when I felt the light touch of Alex's hand on my arm.
"Piper, you can't go home in this weather. You'll never be able to get a taxi and I'm not going to let you walk, I was serious when I said you could you stay here. I'll even sleep on the couch and let you have my bed."
I stared at her for a second, looking into her green eyes to see only genuine concern looking back at me. I sighed softly and sat back down onto the couch properly, smiling softly at Alex when a grin broke out across her face, "And people say that chivalry is dead."
Another two glasses of wine later and I was finally under the hot spray of Alex's shower, trying to get my thoughts into order before I turned the water off and stepped out. Part of my mind was screaming at me to just leave, I mean, I didn't really know this woman. Sure, I had been more than willing to go home with her a few weeks in the bar when I had met her, but tonight was different. She wasn't flirting with me over margaritas and whispering in my ear when someone turned the music up too loud. This was just me and Alex, in her apartment, with me in her shower, about to sleep in her bed. So of course part of my mind was telling me to run, to babble some shit about going to see Polly and just get out of her, but that part of my mind was being heavily outweighed by the part that was keeping me in this shower and running Alex's shampoo through my hair. There was something about this woman that made my heart beat differently, not faster, jut different. She interested me, and for once in my sheltered life I wanted to take a step over the line and live. I wanted to look into something that interested me.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around me, drying my hair quickly before walking out and seeing a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the bed next to my uniform, which had also been folded. I couldn't stop the smile that tugged on my lips when I lifted the baggy shirt that had clearly been purchased at a Whitney Houston concert, pulling it over my head along with pulling the shorts up my legs that had been left. When I opened the bedroom door I was immediately greeted by the sight of Alex sprawled out across the couch, her arm that was hanging off the edge flicking up occasionally to change channel. When she realised I was there, she scrambled up and smiled at me shyly, chewing on her lip before patting the couch next to her.
"Well, don't you look adorable," Alex said softly as I sat down next to her, looking over to the TV to see Pretty Woman playing. I played with the material of the shirt between my fingers while I smirked at Alex.
"Whitney Houston, really?"
"Hey, Whitney Houston is a pure genius who holds a special place in my heart. The Bodyguard is my favourite film," Alex shrugged softly, avoiding eye contact with me as though she was embarrassed. I couldn't stop the giggle that left my mouth, feeling my heart melt at the adorable woman in front of me. "That's my favourite shirt so treat it nice, I had to queue for like 40 minutes with a load of snotty people who shoved me everywhere to buy that."
"I'll make sure I don't hurt Whitney," I teased, stroking the face on the shirt and laughing when Alex just rolled her eyes at me, returning her gaze to the screen. I watched Alex for a second, enjoying the way her glasses slid down her nose whenever she looked down. She scrunched her nose up whenever they began to slide, in a futile attempt to stop them before having to push them up herself. When her eyes flicked to me and she smiled, I forced myself to look at the tv before she did think I was actually a psychopath. I watched as Richard Gere climbed up the fire escape, chewing on my lip to control my wondering eyes, finally glancing over to Alex when the movie ended.
"You know, if you're tired I totally understand you going to bed," Alex spoke, turning her head to look at me again. I was going to say that I was fine, until I felt a yawn work it's way through me. Alex just laughed and took that as her answer, grabbing my hands and pulling me up, dragging me into her bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Alex lifted a blanket and pillow, turning to look at me when she was about to leave.
"Alex, this is your bed, I'll sleep on the couch…" I started, stopping when Alex shook her head and just said no, smiling softly at me. I sighed frustrated, running my hands through my hair and saying Alex's name when she was just about to reach the door, "I don't bite you know, you can share the bed with me then. Please, I feel horrible making you sleep on your couch just because I was crying in the street."
Alex stood for a second, clearly weighing out the decision and unaware of the thumping in my chest. I sighed in relief when she nodded, dropping the blanket and pillow down on to a chair before walking over to the bed. I tried not to stare at her long legs when she pulled her jeans off, pulling my eyes away when she climbed into the bed, followed by me. I lay awkwardly again, suddenly feeling like the tension in the air was suffocating me. I heard Alex laugh softly as though she could read my thoughts, taking her glasses off and turning the lights off, leaving us in complete darkness. I turned on my side so that I was facing her, watching her as she just remained still and looked at the ceiling.
"Alex," I whispered, my voice cracking from how quiet I spoke. It confused my why I whispered, the idea of soon as it's dark voices had to be quiet baffling me. Alex smiled as she rolled onto her side and was looking at me, her soft green eyes clear in the darkness of the room. My eyes flickered between looking at her eyes down to her slightly parted lips, the feeling I had gotten in the bar a few weeks ago now re-emerging and making me want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her. I don't know whether it was my new outlook on life of living on the edge, or whether it was just impossible to fight the inevitable, but a second later I moved forward and pressed my lips against Alex's. It took her a second to respond, but when I felt her hand trail up my neck and cup my cheek, the shiver that went down my spine was indescribable. That's all it was, a soft, sweet kiss that ended almost as soon as it started. When our lips parted I was thankful that Alex didn't move away, her fingers still fluttering against my cheek and her warm breath hitting me when she spoke.
"What was that for? You're ruining my chivalrousness." Alex said softly, her fingers trailing down my neck before pulling away and resting on the pillow in between us. I immediately missed the contact between our bodies, but when Alex's hand moved and found mine under the covers, I came to the conclusion that Alex Vause could in fact read my mind.
"I don't know, it was a thank you for letting me stay I guess," I mumbled softly, scrunching my nose up when I realised how pathetic that sound, sighing softly and shaking my head, "No it wasn't, that was a bad lie. I guess I've just wanted to do that since I heard that voice of yours shout Laura Ingalls Wilder across the bar."
Alex snorted softly at the memory, her fingers unlinking from mine and making my heart thump a little harder in my chest. I struggled to see in the darkness what she was doing, but when I felt her fingers pull my chin forward softly, I knew exactly what she was doing. My whole body felt like it was on fire when she kissed me, harder this time, yet at the same time I felt like I was soaring through the air. I smiled into the kiss and let my hand now travel up and wrap into her hair, pulling her closer to me when I felt her tongue run across my bottom lip and collide with my own. For a few minutes I felt like the only people in the world were me and Alex, and when she pulled away and rested her head against mine, I knew that something had changed. I knew that the woman who was softly kissing me again, was different from everyone else. She wasn't just an interest anymore, she was some new weird addiction for me. I fell asleep that night with Alex wrapped around me, a sensation I became far too accustomed to, that when I left I didn't know how to sleep without the smell of her shampoo and the weight of her body on me. I don't think I've ever had a better night's sleep in my life.
…
As I lay on the bed with my legs up against the wall, my head hanging off the edge, I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head. I could hear my pulse beating past my ears, the pressure making my already faint body become dizzier. My eyes fluttered closed as the words that seemed to haunt me every single day rang in my head again, like church bells that woke you early on a Sunday morning from a blissful sleep. Yet this was anything but blissful. I squirmed on the bed slightly when the rock solid bed caused yet another spasm in my back, a pain I had fatefully become accustomed to. The thumping beat of my blood rushing past my ears was now overpowering the heart wrenching voice in my head, allowing me to sigh contently to myself and allow the pressure in my head to continue to rise.
A loud shriek from the cell besides me caused me to sit up, the muscles in my stomach clenching from the unwanted use of energy to pull myself back up, my eyes wandering to the wall beside me as though I could look through and see what was happening. The screaming didn't stop for another second, the thunderous shrill quieting the other screams that were a common sound of the concrete box that had become home. The screech stopped eventually and for a mere second silence encompassed the entire building, my body tensing at the unfamiliarity of it all. When the usual shouts began again I clenched my jaw, trying to push away the worry and awareness that I had felt more fearful of the silence, than of the ear-splitting scream. The memory of stories I had been told before I was sent down here emerged in my head, of how people told me the worst part of the SHU was the shouting and the cries from the other cells. Listening to other women throw themselves against the metal doors over and over until eventually the pounding stopped, and the only conclusion that seemed probable was that they had finally ran too hard against the door, passing out from the force. Yet to me, that wasn't the worst part. In fact, that was something that seemed to comfort me in the sickening twisted way that my brain now seemingly worked. When I heard the shouts, the bangs, the begs… It just reminded me I wasn't alone. Physically that was. It help my heart beat a little slower in my tightening chest knowing that I wasn't trapped in a concrete box, forgotten about forever until someone finally remembered and opened the door to see my dead body.
So the shouting was far from the worst part about the SHU, the clear winner was the thick dark mist that constantly clouded your head, the unknown I called it. In the SHU, everything was unknown. I didn't know whether it was day or night outside, whether it was bright sunshine or rain, or whether Pennsatucky was alive or not. It always made my stomach churn when I thought about the last one, not because I knew I could possibly be a murderer now, but because I placed the same importance on that as I did on wondering what the weather was like. The first couple of days after I had been thrown in here, it was all I thought about. Every time I looked down at my hands my cut knuckles reminded me of the relentless way my fist smacked into her face, and the large slice across my palm that had never been treated reminded of the fear that I had felt in that moment. But after a week or so of just sitting in the concrete box, of waiting helplessly for the sound of my door to be opened, I realised it was pointless to sit and question the living existence of Pennsatucky. The unknown caught up on everybody and the question of whether it was day time outside began to float into my head just as much as the question about whether Doggett was alive did.
The SHU was like a black hole that could suck you in, but only if you let it. If you were weak and sat on the floor in a ball, crying over your actions, you were bound to be sucked in and never spat back out. I knew that, everyone knew that. You just had to make sure you didn't give the black hole the power to suck you in, and maybe then you might walk away from here with just a few battle wounds from holding on so tight. Yet sometimes, the battle wounds were just as bad as being sucked in. They were wounds that didn't know how to be healed, they were fresh on you like a burn that would never cool. They were part of the unknown, and they only deepened the longer you spent fighting against the black hole. So inevitably the decision always came to you, do you hold on for your life and pray that you get let out time to maybe salvage anything that is left of the person who was dragged down here, or do you let go and face the inevitable? I smirked when I realised I wasn't very good at fighting the inevitable.
My eyes shot wide open when I heard the sound of the locks being moved on my door, my whole body tightening as I watched it open and the familiar guard appear. His eyes scanned over me, as though he was checking I was still alive, before peering over my shoulder at the wall behind me.
"What the fuck does that say?" He asked, stepping into the cell and squinting as he tried to read the wall, sounding out what he thought he could read. I looked over my shoulder and smiled smugly at my artwork.
"The Hamptons," I answered, looking over at him with a wide smile. I ignored the arch of his eyebrow and the judgemental look that he flashed me as he decided I was probably crazy. I pulled my knees up closer to my chest and leant my chin down on them, "A friend once told me the SHU was like the Hamptons, so I thought I would pass on the message to the next person."
"What the fuck did you even write that with?" He questioned as he leaned forward on one foot and squinted at the yellow smear on the wall that barely spelt out the words. I nodded over to the tray of food that sat on the floor. It was still full apart from the orange slime that they gave me was now decorating the wall behind me. "I see that you skipped yet another meal Chapman."
"I wouldn't call them meals," I grunted, flinching when he glared over at me and stretched for something on his belt. I don't know what I expected, but after however long I had been down here, I knew that nothing was off the table when it came to the guards down the hill. My brow furrowed however when he pulled out handcuffs, swinging them round of his fingers as he kicked at the plastic tray on the floor.
"On your feet inmate," He barked, my body instantly jumping at the sound of his booming voice into the cell. I opened my mouth to protest or to apologise, wanting to explain that I didn't know the food was so dear to his heart and I was sorry I had offended him. I also wanted to smack myself across the head for once again letting my arrogance and egotism slip through my lips, just like I had done on the first week.
"I'm sorry I offended the food I didn't-"
"Shut the fuck up inmate and get on your feet," I swallowed hard and forced my body up, fighting the recognisable groan in my muscles from the exhaustion that followed me like a shadow, "It's your lucky day."
"What?"
"The warden decided that having you die from starvation in here would probably cause a bit of trouble, especially with your piece of shit boyfriend and all that-"
"I don't think he's my boyfriend anymore," I mumbled, mainly to myself but noticing the guard roll his eyes when he heard me. I had tried not to think about Larry while I was in here, knowing that if I let the memories of him and Alex become a constant presence in my head, I probably would have thrown myself gladly into the dark hole.
"Anyway, your piece of shit non-boyfriend might cause us all a bit of trouble with his shitty little articles that he just loves to write about this prison. So the warden decided it was time for you to head back to home sweet home," The guard muttered, grabbing my hands when I neared him and pulling them behind my back with enough force to cause a searing pain in my stiff shoulder. I remembered that Watson had once told she spent her time working out while she was down here so that she didn't come back like a zombie, yet as I blinked slowly from how tired my eyes were, I wondered where she got the energy to even think about exercising from, never mid actually doing it. I felt the cuffs tighten around my wrist, possibly cutting into the skin, but I didn't even care enough to let out a grunt. I let the guard grab the top of my arms and begin pulling me out of the cell.
I looked around quickly, the environment of down the hill looking completely new to me as everything from that night, apart from the sound and feeling of hitting Doggett, had seemed to blank from my mind. The thin corridor was dark and mucky as he shoved me along it, the sounds of the screams intensifying. I wondered what they were screaming about, whether they were screaming for someone or whether they were screaming at themselves. I stumbled as the guard shoved me out the door, the harsh cold wind hitting before another flurry of rain sprayed against my skin. I had expected I would feel euphoric when this time came, wanting to look up at the sky and appreciate the simple pleasure of a cloud, yet I didn't. I didn't feel anything apart from the cold bite of the wind as it gusted my hair away from my face. I felt numb to everything, stumbling as the guard pulled me up the path and towards the van that was parked at the end. He opened the door and pushed me in, slamming it loudly behind me, and leaving me to struggle into a sitting position.
I flicked my hair out of my face before looking forward to see the widest smile I had seen in a long time being beamed at me. "Good to see you again Chapman!" Lorna boomed, the sound of her loud voice hurting my ears. I smiled weakly at her and shuffled so I was leaning my body against the door, thankful the van was empty apart from Lorna and Fischer who was jumping in, giving me a quick nod. The van vibrated into action and before I knew it, the building that I had been trapped in began to become a dot in the distance as we drove past high wired fences with barbed wire on top. I mustn't have heard Lorna as she spoke to me, snapping my eyes from the window when I heard my name being snapped and the sight of Lorna looking in the mirror at me, concern washing over her face.
"The SHU didn't get to you did it?" She asked quickly, turning out onto a deserted road that was lined with tall trees, snow still covering the top of them. The sight of the white snow caught my attention, a small factor that allowed me to think I had been in the box for too long. "Nicky told me that it can really fuck people up you know, and she's never been there as long as you. I mean, 6 weeks is pretty long. You missed Christmas Day and New Year's, which was actually fun because Caputo let us-"
"I've been gone for 6 weeks?" I asked quickly, cutting through Lorna who just hummed and nodded to me, flickering her eyes to me again. I looked away quickly to avoid the worry and apprehension that filled them, instead focusing my eyes back out the window. I knew it had been gone long, but I didn't think it had been that long. I had tried to count meals and work out how far apart they did showers, but eventually I stopped eating the rubbish they fired through the doors on trays, often not even moving from my bed when it smacked against the floor, and ultimately lost count of how many days I had been there. Maybe I did kill Doggett then? Maybe I was being brought back to the prison before being sent to a court to be sentenced again. I scoffed at the thought of telling my mother I was now a murderer, imagining her passing out right in front of me.
"You know Chapman, you don't look too good. Did they not feed you or something? You look one of those African kids you see on those adverts where they ask you to donate money," Lorna laughed, turning the van onto a more familiar road. The main prison building was now visible in front of me. I had thought about this moment while I was down the hill, wondering how I would feel. Much like the wind against my face, I thought I would feel excited or at least relieved, yet I felt nothing. I felt numb. I looked up to see Lorna looking at me in the mirror again, waiting for a response that only came from a shrug of the shoulders and a weak smile. The van chugged to a stop, the memory of the van pulling up here months ago when I had surrendered flashing into my head. I had been terrified that days, clutching my belongings close to me as though they would protect me. Who knew this is how I would end up? I wasn't that same person anymore, just like Larry and Polly had been telling me since day 1. I was okay with that, but I wasn't okay with the unknown that was still creeping into my life. I didn't know who I was now, and what still scared me was that I didn't know what I was capable of now. I looked down at my hands, the knuckles were freckled with light pink scars that I hoped would eventually fade, but the large gash across my hands which had become infected a few weeks ago, would never fade. It would be a constant physical reminder of that night, one that could go along with the constant emotional reminders.
I practically fell out of the van when Fisher opened the door, landing into her arms and hearing her chuckle softly. She pulled the keys from her belt and unlocked the handcuffs that had kept me trapped, bringing my wrists round and rubbing at them until a burn stopped me. They had cut me slightly from how tight they were, a small amount of dry blood on my wrists now. Fischer smiled apologetically at me, but it only made want to tell her that I deserved it. I had beaten someone to death with those hands, they deserved to be locked behind my back. I followed Lorna and Fischer as they made their way towards the building door. I made sure not to look up at the window which probably had people crowded around it, all whispering about how I looked and most likely retelling the story of what I had done in 20 different ways. For a second I wondered whether Alex was there, until I remembered I couldn't think that anymore. I couldn't be curious about her anymore, because I had no right to.
….
"I'm going to be honest Blondie, I'm pissed off that you're here," Rosa coughed from her bed. I looked over from where I was sat with my legs crossed on my bed, cocking my head so I could look at her properly, "You were supposed to be one of the good ones. Sure, that meth head needed a good beating, but I thought you knew better." I tried to ignore that fact that I felt like I was being scolded by my mother, before realising my mother never actually told me off that like. This sounded like someone who cared, my mother never cared enough to bother with shouting at me.
"I thought I knew better too," I mumbled, looking down into my lap at the small bar of soap and toothbrush that Lorna had handed me before running off in excitement to tell everyone that I was back. I could imagine her running in the Suburbs right now and shouting at the top of her voice that the newest murderer was back, but I still wondered how long I was back for. I wondered whether people would really care that I was back, if they had even missed me. I sometimes thought that if I hadn't of been the gossip of the prison, no one would have noticed I was gone.
"Have they given you any information about Doggett?" DeMarco asked as pushed herself up on the bed and looked over at me over the top of her glasses. I snorted at the question, shaking my head slowly at them.
"Why would they give me information when they can let me sit for 6 weeks and think about the person I killed with my bare hands? They probably thought it was extra torture for me," I mumbled, leaving out the part that I hadn't really given much thought to Pennsatucky, knowing it would only reinforce the trepidation that people now seemed to look at me with.
"Killed?" Rosa laughed, her laughter turning into small coughs before she managed to regain her breath, "You didn't kill her Blondie, if anything you did her a favour. I heard she's getting new teeth," Rosa muttered before rolling over and mumbling something about the insane medical double standards this prison had.
I hadn't killed her. Pennsatucky wasn't dead. I wasn't a murderer. I felt a small hint of relief wash through me, and frowned when I realised that was all I felt. I didn't feel an overwhelming sense of joy when I realised I hadn't brutally murdered someone with my hands, I just felt acceptance. Acceptance that I didn't need to go to trial again, acceptance that I was probably back for good now, and acceptance that I didn't need to see Larry's dad. I wondered whether that was fucked up, before coming to the conclusion that it was most definitely fucked up. I wanted to blame it on the SHU, say that it messed with my head, but I felt like I couldn't. I felt like this new person that I had become all of a sudden, who had emerged while I was prison, was a heartless cold bitch. I was everything that people had ever called me, and for the first time since I had been publically rejected by Alex 6 weeks ago, I felt tears sting the back of my eyes.
"I'm going to be honest Chapman, you don't look good," DeMarco sighed, sliding over so she was sat on the edge of her bed and had a better look at me. "Maybe after a meal you'll look better. Or maybe a shower?" I just nodded at her, swallowing the lump away in my throat and grabbing the crispy towel that had been handed to me when I walked into the room.
….
It felt somewhat refreshing to stand under a stream of water that wasn't freezing cold and know that a set of eyes weren't burning into you. It was somewhat revitalising to wash and know that later that night, somebody wouldn't think of my naked body in the shower when they were getting themselves off. The bathroom was empty when I stepped out of the shower and wrapped my towel around myself, walking over to the counter where I had left my pile of clothes. I was about to grab the shirt when I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and stopped.
My skin look unbelievably pale, sallow and pasty. Underneath my lifeless eyes were large purple circles that dipped down far enough to reach my cheeks bones, another feature that was now easy to see on my face. I ran my fingers over my cheek bones before letting them fall to my collar bone which stuck out leaving sunken gaps above. My fingers jutted over my ribs which were now easily counted and I tapped my fingers against my hip bones. I let out a defeated sigh at how weak and feeble I looked, reminding me of the time I had gone to the hospital to visit my Granddad, the image of his faint body being a constant reminder in my life of what death looked like. Right now, I looked like I was dying. I smirked at my usual melodramatic self before grabbing the orange pants and pulling them easily up my legs, kicking my feet into the boots. I had my shirt halfway pulled over my head when I heard the sound of footsteps making their way into the bathroom. I panicked and tugged the shirt, feeling the resistance against my still wet hair. I tried pulling it down as fast as I could but knew it was too late when I heard the sharp intake of breath, the gasp that echoed around the empty bathroom. It wasn't the fact that someone had seen my bony body that made my hands shake, it was the gasp that did that. The recognisable intake of breath that caused my arms to slack and the shirt to finally slip free from my wet hair and fall down my body.
I didn't want to look up. I knew she was behind me, I could almost feel her against me even though I knew she was a few steps away. I wanted to just run, to push straight past her and run straight back to the dorm that offered me my perfect hiding place, but I could get my feet to move. I briefly wondered whether this constituted as me coming to her with my problems, but that thought escaped my head when I heard another footstep towards me. I still hadn't looked up, not knowing if I could handle seeing those perfect green eyes so soon. I had promised myself I would listen to Alex, I would stay away from her. I wasn't only doing it because she asked, but because I knew deep down it was the best thing. I seemed to be a ticking time bomb that was constantly exploding without me even knowing when, and I wanted to save her for once. I was tired of putting her in the firing line of my shit, leaving her to defend for herself whenever I became too injured. However, one smile from her perfect lips and I knew I would be right back to that front line.
I was waiting for her to move on, to do whatever she needed to do. I was waiting for the cold disregarding of my presence that Alex had promised, waiting for her to look straight through me. I wasn't expecting to hear her voice. So when her low voice did crack through the silence of the bathroom, I felt myself jump in surprise. My heart fluttered at the sound, and I felt like this was the first time in 6 weeks that I didn't feel numb. I was feeling something, I was reacting to something for once.
"Jesus Piper," She whispered softly, but I kept my eyes trained firmly on the sink in front of me. I had no escape, even if I looked in front of me I would see her in the mirror. I heard her sigh again, I didn't know whether it was frustrated or annoyed or something else, but my knuckles turned white from how hard I was gripping the side of the counter, making sure I didn't turn around and just throw myself into her arms. She didn't deserve that, I knew better now that to keep dragging her underwater with me while I'm drowning.
"Piper," Her voice cracked again. I clenched my jaw at the sound, wanting to turn around and scream at her. Why was she doing this? Why was she making it harder for me to let go of her? She told me never to go to her again, she couldn't have made it clearer. I swallowed hard and flinched when I heard her the next thing that left her mouth, "Pipes, please look at me." I clenched my eyes closed hard, trying to imagine what she looked like behind me. Maybe she was wearing her grey jumper that she looked adorable in. Maybe her glasses were on her head, or her hair was tucked slightly behind her ear. When she let out one last plead of, "Please," I opened my eyes and forced my head up to look into the mirror.
I heard her let out a long breath as she looked right at me, right into my eyes. I was wrong about the jumper, she was in her beige shirt over her long white top, but I was right about her hair. She had pinned the front back with a clip and her glasses were on her face, but slowly sliding down her nose from how she ducked her head to make eye contact with me. I wanted to shout at her, to ask her whether she was happy now. But the more I looked into her eyes, the more I saw the fear in them. I hated it. I hated that even when I was trying my best to stay away from her, to do the right thing, I was still a problem to her. That's all I was to her, a burden on her life. I was a burden on everyone's life right now. Larry had put his life on hold for me only for me to cheat on him, Polly had been working her ass off on the business only for me to run after a chicken and my mom had to spend her days lying, saying I was in Africa. I shook my head slowly at how pathetic I was, dragging my eyes away from Alex and lifting the toothbrush, deciding I just needed to get out of the room. I spun round quickly and averted my eyes from Alex's, trying to get past her as fast as I could but freezing when I heard her voice again.
"I'm glad you're back," She spoke quickly, before she walked on and I forced myself to move as fast I could.
