It took Freddie quite awhile to catch up with her, but after a few minutes rigourous sprint, he had regained ground and was walking at a comfortable pace about twenty feet behind her. She was marching crisply down the pavement, but it was apparent that she was exhausted both mentally and physically.
"I don't know why you're following me, Freddie, I don't want to talk to you and certainly don't want you to follow me." Florence growled, continuing to walk.
"If you won't talk to me at least I can escort you home and make sure you get there safely." Freddie stated, desperate to acheive forgiveness for his previous comments.
"Well as admirable as that is, Frederick, I still don't want to talk to you and I can make it home perfectly fine on my own. Why don't you go find someone else to harass?"
"Florence, I'm going to accompany you home, whether you like it or not. And… I'm sorry, okay?" Freddie fumbled, running up in front of her in order to see her face.
She stopped dead in her tracks, a mixed expression of boredom and sorrow lining her beautiful face. Freddie spread his arms wide in defeat and guilt, succumbing to his deepest desires.
"Florence Ilona Vassy, I am truely sorry for all of the pain I have caused you, from the moment I met you to now. I am an idiot, a shit, a total fool. I shouldn't have said any of those things earlier, and I just—" He apologized, genuinely remorseful.
"Just stop, Freddie." Florence sighed, massaging her right temple as she always did when stressed. "I appreciate the apology, but I just can't handle hearing any more explanations from anyone about anything right now. All I want to do is to go home."
"Then home is where I'll take you- will you please ride in the car though? You're exhausted." He pleaded.
"Fine, but I don't need you to tell me when I'm exhausted."
"You're as stubborn as I am, Florence."Freddie sighed, shaking his head as he shepherded her into the car.
They rode in silence for the duration of the journey, Florence resting her head on the cool glass of the window, eyes closed in pain, closed to block out the sharp and poisonous world she had become fed up with. Freddie was extremely uncomfortable watching her, observing her agony, and only wanted to make things better, only wanted to gather her up and hold her close. But he could not do either of those things. The woman he loved loved another, and Freddie was not that man. Anatoly was the only one who could relieve her hurts now, and it killed Freddie that he could not.
Upon arrival at her flat, Florence was sleeping. She has drowsed off to the smooth movements of the vehicle, letting it rock her into the welcoming dark.
"Florence… Florence we're here." Freddie crooned, gently shaking her shoulder.
"Hmmm?" She mumbled, barely managing to open her weary eyes.
"You're home."
"Oh, yes. Thanks for the ride Freddie." Florence yawned, opening the door and retrieving her bag from the trunk.
"No problem. And Florence," He pleaded, "I really am sorry."
"I know, I know." She replied, fumbling for her keys.
"Well then, goodbye. We'll…be in touch…erm…I…" Freddie stumbled.
"Goodbye, Freddie." She concluded, shutting the door behind her.
"Goodbye, Florence. I love you." He whispered, even though she had already gone.