Chapter 11: Formositas falsus
Pam heard Roy's fist connect before she saw it. It was a blur. She saw Roy rushing towards them, but just as he went to nail his head off Jim ducked and his hand connected with the car instead. She winced when she heard his bones ram against the metal and her ears burned at the screech Roy gave. She was still amazed that he had the damn courage to run out here and hit him. But then again Roy did tend to live off of beer and testosterone.
"Roy! What the hell are you—" she was cut off again by Roy going for another punch. But Jim was ready now and was backing up as Roy was advancing. He knew exactly the way he felt, because Jim was feeling it too. It was hard not to acknowledge it, the pulsating adrenaline filling his veins and nerves.
Pam got between Roy and Jim and pushed him back a little, trying not to get hit herself. Not that Roy would do it on purpose, but he was recklessly flying his fist everywhere.
"Stop it now Roy." Pam said. She kept herself securely planted between both before anything more could escalate.
"Are you happy Pam?" Roy slurred out.
She squinted at him briefly and wondered why she didn't smell that alcohol rolling off him in waves before. "You're drunk. Were you like this at work?"
Jim backed up as far as he could and slumped against the front of the car. He tried to keep his hands in his pockets so Pam wouldn't see that they were clenching into fists.
Roy shook his head. "Why would you even care if I was? You didn't even care enough to tell me you were leaving me!"
That's what Jim had been afraid of. That Roy would accuse her of keeping him around. But he kept quiet and observed the two.
Pam seemed to falter for a moment until she found her voice, or maybe she was looking for her damn nerve. Jim couldn't tell which, it seemed she couldn't find either at the moment, so he stepped in.
"She was going to tell you." He said quietly. As soon as he opened his mouth he knew he shouldn't have. Pam turned and gave him a look that said she was handling it while Roy just started yelling.
"Was anyone talking to you Halpert?" he spat.
"He's right Roy; I was going to tell you."
Roy rolled his eyes and made it look like it took him a whole lot of effort. "You were going to tell me Pam? You hardly say anything to me all day. How am I supposed to believe that?"
Jim resisted the act of widening his eyes and screaming at Roy. He wondered if half of Roy's brain cells were so far gone from the drinking and up at late hours watching football. Hadn't he ever wondered why Pam never opened up to him about anything? Never talked to or concerned him with any part of her life? Nope, Jim shook his head. He wasn't going to touch that subject. No matter how much Roy was practically begging him to.
"Because you're too busy to listen to me Roy! It's either football or drinking or fix me dinner Pam!" she was screaming now and Jim looked around the parking lot to make sure no one else was seeing this. "That's practically all I ever hear from you. I guess the compliments and nice gestures died along time ago."
Jim wondered if they had ever been there at all.
Then Roy did something bold. He placed his hand on Pam's forearm and squeezed it tightly, like he was trying to get her to stop talking or to gain her attention. He was drunk and Jim knew that but no matter how many excuses he was giving him, when he heard Pam wince at the action, something inside him snapped. And suddenly his clenching fists were turning his knuckles white and his hands were coming out from his coat pockets. She surprised him by standing up for herself, pushing Roy away and Jim leaned himself against the car again. He rolled his eyes at the action he had been so ready to take. He honestly didn't know what he would have done. Jim had never gotten into a fight that required fists in his entire life. There was one time in kindergarten, when he'd taken a crayon from the wrong person. There had been a few light shoves, but nothing major. He was glad Pam stepped in when she did because he knew he'd be the one hurting if she hadn't. He had too much of a savior complex for this girl, always sacrificing his emotions and body to save her. He was tired of it; but he knew he'd do it over and over again, just like he had been ready to do not moments ago.
"Don't touch me Roy." Pam grit out. She yanked her arm away even though he wasn't touching her anymore. "When I go back home, I'm getting my things. It's over."
Jim was surprised at her. He'd never seen this side of her and honestly didn't know she had one. He looked to see Roy's reaction and he was just as surprised as he was, maybe even more so. The one thing Jim was feeling for him that he wished he hadn't been was sympathy. The poor bastard was drunk and this hadn't been the right time for her to do this. He was afraid that Roy wouldn't even remember any of this the next morning. Which meant when he woke up and Pam's things were gone he'd have a major meltdown. He'd have to tell her that. That even though Roy was an ass, he didn't deserve that. No man did. Jim would take her to her apartment tomorrow morning when Roy would be sober. But she'd have to do this all over again, with a more coherent Roy. He didn't know how she would see that, or if she still had the nerve to do it.
"If that's what you want Pam." Roy's eyes were shining and Jim could tell tears were gathering there. Pam was good at that, he hated to admit. She could take your worst emotion and shove it in your face and by the time she was done your eyes were filling with familiar tears. He didn't think she knew she was doing it or that it was some power she possessed, but Pam could break hearts. Without her even knowing it.
Jim waited until Pam gathered herself and instead of going to her own car, she went to Jim's. He stood there for a moment, not really sure what was going on. He'd been paying attention, but everything seemed so sudden. It also was ringing in his head that Roy was drunk and that he couldn't drive home.
"Do you need a ride man?" Jim asked him. Roy was staring at the pavement and he wondered if he should speak another language Roy would understand. Although, now that he thought about it he hoped he did have a ride home because sticking these two in the car together would be the end of him.
He tried again, softer this time and stepping closer to him. "Roy, do you have a ride?" He put more emphasis on his words, like he was talking to a child that had just lost their puppy.
Roy just nodded, but never looked up. "I can call someone."
He sounded dangerously sober and Jim wondered if Pam's outburst had done it to him. But he didn't ask, he just turned and headed to his car. When he got in, Pam was crying. She wasn't sobbing and he could tell she was trying really hard not to. But he was kind of glad that she was because then that would mean not all of this had to do with anger. They had loved each other at one point, Pam and Roy, and Jim would have been worried if she hadn't been upset.
"You okay?" he asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.
She nodded and turned to smile at him through her tears. It was a weak and watery look, a poor excuse for a smile but he took it anyway.
"Where do you want me to take you?" Jim asked. It was always her decision anyways.
"Can I sleep at your place tonight?" she asked meekly and Jim nodded starting the engine. He glanced at her before pulling out of the parking lot and for some reason she looked like a flower to him; a flower that had a shade of gorgeous dark royal purple. And it wasn't the act of blooming or starting anew that was reminding him of such a flower. He remembered his grandma used to say something about her flowers, the ones that were special and tended to bloom at night. Formositas falsus, his grandma used to say. And that's exactly what reminded him of her in this instance and for what had happened tonight.
Formositas falsus; beauty that belies a dark nature.
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thank you for reading:D and there is prob only one more chapter left so please R&R while you still can :D
