The realisation that she isn't alone in the house when she wakes up is not something that baffles her, and that is what feels strange to her. She sits at her antique dressing table, places Penny on it, as she does every morning, and runs a brush through her tangled hair. She observes her reflection; happy. As it was every morning since she'd been here. As it will be every morning until she leaves here.
She is too busy thinking about nothing to notice the bundle of coffee coloured curls steal something off the table and run away quicker than Blake ever imagined.
'Penny, come back here!' she shouts, and starts chasing after her, carefully placing her feet on the wooden floor, not to wake the man sleeping in her living room.
'Penny, where the hell are you?' she whispers, and the dog suddenly crosses her path from one room and into the next. Blake follows, searching the floor for her tiny puppy, when she notices him.
His hair is wet and messy, tiny drops of water sliding down to his already damp shoulders and arms, and they way his towel hangs on his hips makes her remember ancient mornings in a trailer they made their own, and an alarm set for six on a clock that showed five thirty because they woke up early to make it feel like they were spending the morning in bed. He holds her dog with one arm, and removes the stolen item from her mouth. By his facial expression, she already knows what it is.
'Gosh, I can't believe you still have this thing.' Big, and bold, and such a fake silver, it didn't even shine in the light. A bright red heart at the end of the chain. Something meant to be kept, not worn, something he won at some fair at the end of one summer... Something symbolic.
She bows her head slightly, embarrassed, and a gentle smile adorns her perfect face.
'I... wanted to bring some on my old life here with me. Remind me of who I am when I get too caught up in the perfection of this world...' she explains. She can't mention that the chain was one of the few things she specifically packed in her suitcase.
There is a strange, tense silence around them, and it's weird how often that happens around him lately. Something she hadn't experienced since... a tired 2007.
'Well, it seems Penny still likes me,' he comments, ruffling the dogs ears.
'Don't flatter yourself, she just remembers your weak ability to resist her puppy dog eyes, and your bad habit of feeding her when I'm not looking,' she retorts, and sneakily breathes in a sigh of relief when she thinks he isn't looking. He lets her think he isn't.
Penn laughs gently, and sets the puppy down. 'Breakfast?' he suggests. 'You may still be able to cook, but I still make some mean pancakes.'
'I'll go set things up, while you go and put some clothes on!' she comments, feigning disgust, and giggling a little at his offended face.
'You used to prefer me without!' he teases, wiggles his eyebrows and rushes out of the room before she can respond. And the familiar way she feels when she is alone worries her. She knows what could happen next.
-xoxo-
He pads around her living room, his feet making no noise against her floor, and the most natural smile plastered on his face. He leans against the door frame of the kitchen, and watches as she tries to get a head start on the cooking. He knew she wouldn't have been able to resist not meddling with some ingredients.
She is completely enthralled in her own world, and as she sings along to some old French song on the radio, he remembers so many other similar moments from what feels like a whole lifetime ago. And the first thing he wants to do, the one thing he finds himself struggling to refrain from doing, is walking up behind her and snaking his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.
'I know you're standing there,' she says, interrupting his thoughts. 'Don't judge, okay? I just couldn't help myself.' There is a tone of laughter in her voice, and he laughs a little at the realisation of it.
He walks towards her, and puts a finger in whatever she's preparing. 'The only thing I'm judging is the amount of effort you've put into this. It's amazing!' he compliments, and finds himself having to once more resist the urge to kiss her cheek. And he's glad he doesn't have the time to contemplate over why these urges surface.
-xoxo-
He helps with the washing up, ignoring her protests, and as she dries their plates, he splashes some water in her direction, giggling when she squeals.
'So if you don't mind, I've decided I want to hang around for a while. This place is... kind of growing on me.' He avoids glancing in her direction, and she is glad he does, because her face is the brightest it's been in a while.
'Why would I mind? Just warning you, though, I hope you like the couch, because I'm not giving my bed up for you.' Their eyes meet, and as they smile goofily at each other, she swears she sees something in his that scares her.
-xoxo-
If someone asked her a few days ago how she would have made her life better, she would have said her life was perfect the way it was. But having him there proved her wrong. She'd been happy and fulfilled until he showed up, but afterwards things changed for so much better. She laughed more around him in the next few weeks more than she had the whole time she had been in France. Every time he would try and address a customer in a badly learned French, or attempt to balance a plate on his forearm as he carries it to the table, or teach clients swear words in English as he drops it; it was little moments like this that made her day that much brighter.
As they walk home one night, she realises that she remembers exactly what it is like to be close to him, closer than anyone he knows, and she knows that she likes the feeling. She remembers the way he used to make her laugh, and smile, and giggle for no apparent reason to anyone but them. And she decides that this is the life she wouldn't trade anything for.
They watch the ending of a French movie, her legs resting across his thighs, a soft blanket covering both of them.
'So...'he starts out of the blue, distracting her attention from the screen. 'How come Ryan isn't here?'
The shock of a reality she became really good at ignoring hit her, harder than she expected it to, and for a moment she didn't even know what to respond.
'I'm sorry... You don't need to tell me, I was just...' He frowns slightly before her, and his blink lasts longer than usual, and she remembers he did that when he felt uncomfortable, but as she thinks a bit more about it, she realises it is very simple.
'We broke up.'
His eyes search hers a moment longer, before he breathes out 'I'm sorry'.
'That's okay. We just became different people with contrasting priorities. I'm kind of over it now.'
The atmosphere around them is still tense, and she realises that this moment is as suitable as moments can get for her to ask a question her subconscious wants to know the answer to.
'What about Zoe?'
He breathes deeply in as he sips out of his mug, and sets it down.
'We ended it just before I left.'
'Oh. I'm...'
'Sorry? Don't be. I'm over it, too.'
It takes him a while longer to continue, and just before he does, his gaze locks with hers, and it's the strongest gaze she has ever felt.
'But she was a lot easier to get over than you ever were.'
A/N: I'm not happy with this chapter, but it's a decent continuation. Read and REVIEW and let me know if you liked it. Thanks
