Will They? Won't They?
"Oh, you really do want me. Even though you're sober. I thought…" She trails off, staring into my eyes. She closes her eyes and leans in, and I'm jolted to action - I grab her waist and easily lift her off me, depositing her back in her chair. She makes a squeak of surprise, and her eyes flash with anger. "What the hell, Hopper?"
"You didn't let me finish. I do want you," she makes to get up again, but I lay a heavy hand on her shoulder, keeping her put, "but you're very young. And you deserve someone who can treat you better than I can. Someone who isn't a drunk with years of baggage. Who knows better than to...flirt with other women in front of you. Who won't go on bingers and forget what happened. Or rely on the kindness of, effectively, strangers to make it home safely. Someone not me." I manage a sad smile. She's quiet for a few minutes, looking deep in thought.
"Doesn't that seem like a decision I should make? Instead of you making for me?" That takes me off guard. I open my mouth, expecting an answer to come, but nothing does. "And like I said, I don't need to be in a relationship...I just want to kiss you," she says sadly, her gaze flickering to mine and away. "Please?" She reaches her hands out to me again, grabbing on my shirt. I want her so badly, but it's not fair to her. And it's in no way fair to kiss her when she probably wouldn't even remember it. Of course, it's only the alcohol making her this bold. In the morning, she won't ask such a thing, so I won't be tempted to ignore my better judgement. Meaning this might be my only chance to kiss her.
"I- I think you should get some rest," I say, moving her hands off me and putting them in her lap. She purses her lips in silent anger and turns her head away. "There's more than a few women in town who can attest they would have preferred to have never met me. I don't want you added to that list," I offer as explanation with a sad smile. "The last time I tried to date someone, which was a couple years ago now, things ended...badly. I was a bum who couldn't be there for her, I was constantly forgetting dates, missing her calls because I was passed out drunk. It wasn't good. I'm not...I'm not stable enough to be in even a semblance of a relationship." She doesn't respond. "Can I drive you home?" She frantically shakes her head. She rubs her eyes before looking back at me, and guilt washes over me.
"No way - my mom would freak if she knew I was this drunk."
"Alright. You're welcome to spend the night here if you like. That chair isn't too uncomfortable." She nods.
"You'll stay too? This place would be super creepy alone." I nod.
"I'll stay. I think I owe you that much," I say with a small smile. "There's a bathroom down the hall, and a locker room if you'd like to shower."
"I'm fine for now. Thank you for letting me stay." I just nod and return to the file I was working on before this all happened. She's quiet for a long time, but the occasional glance tells me she's not sleeping yet - she stares unseeing at the wall in front of her. Judging by the lines in her face, she is not thinking happy thoughts. A better man would ask her what was wrong, attempt to comfort her. But I'm not that man. So instead I just give her space. Eventually, she's asleep.
I wake up stiff. With a groan, I stretch out my muscles and yawn. A large coat I must have been using as a blanket falls off me - where did I get that? Where the hell am I? I rub my neck, looking around. I'm in an office...Hopper's office? Definitely Hopper's office - he's dozing in his desk chair. But why the hell am I here? Last I remember, I was with Lucy at one of the bars downtown… I get up to find the bathroom, inadvertently waking Hopper.
"Oh, good, you're up. How are you feeling?" he asks as if this is perfectly normal situation, and I'm not frantically trying to figure out how I ended up here...and what I may have said or attempted to do over the course of the night.
"Fine, for now. Bathroom though?"
"Down the hall, to the right." I take my time in the bathroom, trying to freshen up as much as possible. My hair is a tangled mess and my makeup is smudged all over. Not to mention I'm sure I smell like a spring meadow after all that bar hopping and dancing. I'm also begging my brain to supply the missing memories, but I've got nothing but the rough outline of my hands in his hair. I hide my face in my hands. What did I do?
When I return, Hopper has two mugs of coffee at the small table near the chair where I slept. He's sitting in the other chair, calmly smoking a cigarette.
"So," I say.
"So," he repeats. "I assume you don't remember what happened last night." I nod, feeling myself blush. If he didn't think I was too immature before, he definitely does now. "So, I can't speak to what you did before 2 AM, but Powell brought you in for public intoxication. Apparently someone called to complain about you being visibly drunk and trying to break into closed shops downtown."
"Great," I say with a slight grimace. How did Lucy and I get separated? Is she okay? Does my mom know I got brought to the station?
"Protocol says that in situations like that, we either take the person home or keep them in the holding cell to sober up. But you insisted you didn't want to go home, and if we had put you in the cell you would have needed to call your mom anyways, so instead I just kept you here to make sure you wouldn't be in danger. Or in the way in the station," he says with a smile at something I don't understand. "You were causing a bit of havoc," he explains.
"Oh, so is that all?" I say, feeling my heart slow down. Certainly not my finest moments, but nothing I can't live with.
"Well," he hesitates, and I tense again. "We also had a talk. I figure we should probably recap that discussion so that we're both on the same page." I swallow hard. Suddenly I'm not feeling so well after all.
"Alright. Hit me - what stupid things did I say?" I say with a small smile as I take a sip of the coffee. He hesitates, and my pulse races.
"We...both said some stupid things, I think. Um, I'll just recap. So, you said you were mad at me but wouldn't say why, then we discussed why we should not be in any sort of sexual relationship," I can't help but grimace at that, "and we determined that you were operating under the misunderstanding that I don't...that I'm not physically attracted to you." I bury my head in my hands. Way to go, Tricia. Now you get to have this horribly uncomfortable conversation twice. Wait - did he just say misunderstanding?
"What did you just say?" I snap.
"Which part?" he asks, looking impressively nonplussed.
"That you don't - I misunderstood that you're unattracted to me?"
"I - yes." I examine him, trying to get a read on him.
"So...you...are attracted to me?"
"...yes," he says after a moment's hesitation.
"Oh." Suddenly the tension in the room doesn't seem so one-sided. It's too early for these sorts of revelations - my head is swimming. "I...I'm confused. If you're attracted to me, and you definitely know that I'm attracted to you, why haven't you…" I trail off, hoping he'll let me not make me finish my question, but he's silent. "Why haven't you made a move," I finish. His sharp blue eyes meet mine, more guarded than I've seen them in a long time.
"Because I shouldn't. You shouldn't be with me. Frankly, you deserve better than a drunk with minimal social skills who can barely function as an adult." I ponder this turn of events - he does want me? But it's concerns about not being good enough that have stopped him from pursuing me while sober? That's a compliment...or is it just a well-thought out excuse? I bring my gaze to his - his eyes are pained. If I asked, I wonder if I could convince him to give me a chance...but I'm sure I hit on him enough last night for a lifetime worth of rejection. I sigh. I already have the answer.
"Would you be able to drive me home now?" He nods, all pain gone from his expression.
"Sure thing." It's a foggy morning as we drive across town to my house. I shouldn't be surprised that he has memorized the way there. Sometimes I forget how smart he is.
"What are you going to tell your mom?"
"The truth, probably," I say with a sigh. "Or maybe she'll have the good sense not to ask." As we pull up to my street, I start talking before I can talk myself out of it. "I'm sure I propositioned you a thousand times last night, and obviously the answer was no, so I won't ask you again today to spare us both the embarrassment. But on the off-chance that the whole 'not good enough' thing is how you genuinely feel and not a clever excuse, I would like to say that if you ever want to let me decide for myself if a man meets my criteria, I'd very much...I'd like to see you. In less formal circumstances," I finish. I'm already wishing I had kept my mouth shut. He's silent for a long time.
"Understood," he finally says as he pulls into my driveway.
"Thanks for the ride," I wave as I head out. Once inside, I lock the door and lean against it with a sigh. I don't even know how to feel. On one hand, Hopper may actually care about me in some way. On the other, those feelings are preventing him from wanting anything more with me. Him wanting me and refusing to act on it is almost worse than him not wanting me at all! Head swimming, I make my way to bed and settle back to sleep for a few more hours before I have to go to work.