"What?" I asked. Immediately, I knew I'd handed this poorly. Lena opened her mouth to respond, utterly lost for words. Her lips formed syllables but made no sound. "That's my work colleague, Luann." I tried to seem firstly, casual and secondly, innocent – though I couldn't put my finger on why I felt the need to cover up. I hadn't quite grasped the severity of the situation yet; I couldn't tell what she was accusing me of. Her face was flowing quickly between anger and despair. She couldn't possibly know, so what was she angry about?

"Shirt!" She shouted and I winced. "Take it off!"

"What?"

"Take it off!"

"What? Why?!"

"I haven't decided what I'm pissed off at yet – take it off!" She repeated.

"Hey, calm down!" I took a step towards her, but she stumbled back.

"No." She held up her hands as if to keep me away. "Do not fucking tell me that you're hiding something to do with her under your shirt."

"To do with her?" I had long since passed through surprise and confusion, now paddling through deep water with no idea why I'd been thrown in.

"The first thing I need to confirm is that the reason you are not taking off your shirt is because you've got FUCKING LOVE BITES on your skin! OFF!" I did so immediately, stripping down to bare skin and throwing the shirt at her.

"Happy?" She didn't even check. The look of anger subsided a little; she was still furious about something.

"Next!" She continued. "Explain to me why she had your house keys."

Now this was the tricky bit. Waking up with a severe hangover and not in my own bed was … distressing to say the least. I found Luann a couple of minutes later, asleep in the bath still fully clothed. She'd laid the bed's blanket down along the porcelain and took a pillow, too. I felt a little better; she was clothed, and we were in different beds – a good sign. The night before was so hazy, though. The last thing I remembered was hanging off Luann's arm in the lift. Now what? Did I wake her up? Or should I just leave?

The first thing I did was use the room's kettle to pour myself a drink of tea; I needed it. I tried desperately not to think too hard. No use getting paranoid. We'd woken up in different beds (well, a bath and a bed). She was still fully clothed. Everything was fine. Unless she'd woken up with me and regretted it but had no-where to go? What was I thinking? I wouldn't do that. I didn't like her. I loved Lena. Surely my subconscious would have stopped my drunk self. This wasn't something I'd do … surely. I poured a second cup of tea and downed it, ignoring how it scorched my throat. My phone was on low battery and it flashed a couple of unread messages. The guilt floating around somewhere in the back of my brain prevented me from picking it up. Next, I noticed my shirt on the floor. It took all of five seconds to quickly shove my arms in and get it buttoned up. Why would my shirt be on the floor? Nothing else was, that meant I was okay. It was just a shirt.

The sound of rustling in the bathroom alerted me. I snapped upright in my seat. Luann entered the room, looking a little more 'with it' than myself. Her hair was a little ruffled, her dress creased where she'd clearly slept in it and at some point, she'd removed her makeup: she must have done that before going to bed. All in all, Luann clearly hadn't been as drunk as I had. I put on my deer-stalker hat: if she had the cognitive ability to get us to her room, make herself a bed in the bath, take off her makeup and still appear alert the next morning, she must have been sober. Well, sober enough not to sleep with me. One look at my face and she sighed.

"We didn't sleep together, by the way." My mouth slackened like a goldfish. "Your face says it all. I can feel the morning-after questions from here. We couldn't find your hotel key, so you had to sleep here." She checked the clock on the bedside table. "Reception should be open now."

"Then, I'll go get a spare …" I stood, unsure on my feet.

"Yeah, I think you should."

And that was that, story over. My housekeys, which had been in my suit pocket because they shared a loop with my car key, had been found by Luann later in the bedside drawer. Which she had now delivered to me. How to explain that?

"I lost my housekeys." I muttered, redundantly.

"Well, obviously. Where?" She folded her arms. Her hands shook. I suddenly felt like the truth would send her away. She'd leave. She'd definitely leave me.
"Bedside drawer." My brain raced, trying to find a solution. She couldn't go. "Because I left early, I asked Luann to check with the Reception Staff. The cleaning staff went in and found them in my drawer."

"And Luann was handing them back?"

"Yeah." I swallowed and waited for her next response. She visibly slackened her grip on her forearms which had been piercing her skin. Her eyes closed tightly; she took her breathing under control.

"Then, I suppose, my only other question is, do you know about my relationship with her?" I could tell the worst of the storm had passed - her gaze was calmer now. I decided it was probably safe to step closer and was instantly relieved when she let me.

"She's my work colleague, do you know her?" I kept closing the gap. She wasn't far from me now.

"Yeah, we went to school together. We used to be friends, for a time. Now, we can't stand each other." I wrapped my arms carefully around her waist, as though she may shatter if I grasped too tight. Her head dropped forward onto my shoulder, she sighed deeply, her small fingers reached to touch my bare skin. I began to rock her, gently.

"I had no idea."

"No, I believe you. I just thought-," she stopped, shaking her head slightly. "I thought maybe she'd used you to get back at me."

"Nothing happened," I kept rocking her. "It's all fine."

"I'm sorry." She muttered, voice cracking. My chest hurt.

"No, I'm sorry." I said and felt the honestly burning my gut. I really was sorry.

"There was just so much at once-,"

"Hey, it's fine …" I whispered close to her ear. We stayed like that for several minutes, time healing the raw scratches on our bodies and with every second, the tension from before edged further away. "Let's make you some food." I said, finally and reluctantly let go.

"The only way to my heart," she muttered back, a slight smile creeping across her face. I noticed her eyes were tinged with red.

LUANN-

I hesitated, perhaps for the first time, before knocking. For a while, there was silence and I wondered if Kurt had gone out. I hadn't rung beforehand. A small part of me wondered if he was there and just wasn't answering the door. The last thing he'd said to me … I clenched my hands tightly.

"Call me again if you need anything."

"Pff. What would I need from you?"

"You're right. What would you need? Silly me."

It wasn't what he'd said, but his tone of voice: resigned. And then how he'd hung up immediately, like he was shutting me out. Finally, how we'd not so much as texted each other since. We had never been apart, not in our whole lives. We were always together, if I didn't get to see him, he'd ring me. If he didn't ring, I'd text. Suddenly I felt so frustrated with myself – I'd been irritated by his final words and made a point of not instigating a conversation first: we weren't the type of friends that would apologise to each other – we didn't need to. We said harsh things all the time. This time felt different and I couldn't understand why. Each second waiting to hear footsteps behind the door was reaffirming the anxiety sat in my stomach.

The door opened.

"Hey," he said. His eyes were tired.

"Hey," I replied, not moving an inch. He raised an eyebrow.
"Coming in or what?"

He disappeared into the kitchen and I followed. He flicked the kettle on. I shuffled over to the highchairs by the kitchen table, taking a seat to watch him prepare two cups of coffee. His hand moved to ruffle his hair, as was his habit. I was comforted by it. It was something he'd done since he was a kid. Even when he'd once shaved his hair as a kid, he kept doing it absently. Now his hair was longer than ever. For his last birthday I'd bought him a hairband as a joke and either because he didn't care or he wanted to show me he didn't care, when we were at home, he'd wear it sometimes. I saw it now on the kitchen side. He turned, catching me with his dark eyes, setting the coffee down before me.

"How was the trip?"

"You look tired." I said and it was genuinely worrying me. He looked a little surprised.

"Yeah, well, I haven't slept that well."

"Have you been fainting?"

"No, not since last time." I tried to read his face, but I had never been any good at spotting his lies. He was adept at lying to me. "Did something happen? You seem down."

"You've always been good at turning the conversation back round to me." He started again and his lips pursed shut. "I haven't stopped worrying about you."

"I've started seeing someone, a therapist of some sort."

"Is it helping?"

"Kind of."

"How can I help you, Kurt? You always help me, and I feel so fucking useless."

"Hey, what's this?" He frowned and took the seat opposite me. "Something did happen, right?"

"It was what you said," I tried to explain, and I could feel the mess in my head tumbling out of my mouth, all jumbled and confused. "You said, what would I need you for?"

"It was a sharp comment, you know I-,"

"Kurt," my voice cracked, "I nearly did something terrible today."

"Luann, what…?"

"And I couldn't help but think if I went through with it, you'd never forgive me."

"What happened?"

"All week, I've been realising … I've sat and thought about it, over and over,"

"About what?"

"And everything came back to you. You've bent yourself over backwards to help me, I'm convinced you're suffering because of all the stress I've put you under."

"This isn't like you, Luann, calm down." As soon as the words reached me, I noticed that hot tears were spilling from my eyes. I blinked them away. I didn't cry, not ever. I never wanted to be the spoiled child that Lena was. I was always beyond that. I had pride. That was all I ever had. Kurt grasped my hands all of a sudden. "Luann, listen, it isn't your fault."

"It is!"

"It isn't," he squeezed until my fingers hurt. "It isn't!"

"Then what's wrong with you? Why do you look so broken?" I pulled away from his hands and clawed at my hair. "I've just been trying to look after my mum, that's all I've ever been trying to do."

"I know, Luann, I know,"

"But you're important to me, too! I just always thought you'd be fine!"

"I am fine!"

"You're not! You're so busy looking after me that you've got into this state! What have I done?" He stood up so suddenly the chair clattered to the floor. I jumped and stared up at him. I felt so pathetic.

"Luann!" He shouted. "Fuck it," his hand covered his mouth. "Fuck it."

He reached across, grabbed my cheeks with his hands and kissed me. Hard. So hard our teeth clashed together. He pulled at my lower lip; I bit back. He ran a hand though my hair, tugging. I took hold of his neck and dragged him over to me. I felt him wipe back one of my tears. He released, just for a second, to say, "You mean everything to me."

GUTHRIE –

"That should do it, Mrs Hertz." I dusted my hands on my trousers. She handed me a mug and I thanked her.

"Biscuits are on the table, come sit down."

"Thanks." I held the warm mug in both hands and made my way over to the two sofas. They faced opposite each other and Lena's family only had one TV and that was in Ema's room.

"No, thank you honey. We only asked for you to do the washing machine and you helped us with everything else, too."

"You'll still need a new lock for the front door, but I'll try and get you the parts for that."

"Something new breaks every week," she shrugged. "You get used to it!" She sank into the sofa and her frame suddenly looked tiny. Lena was about average size for a woman, yet considerably taller than her mother. Her face showed the wrinkles from a busy life around her eyes. I always cared for Mrs Hertz. She had Lena's eyes, a chocolate brown with so much life in them. I'd once heard her snap at the postman who had been rude to the old lady living next door – she was a fierce woman. Most of the time, though, she was the opposite of Lena. Quiet, calm, softly spoken. She seemed like if I breathed too hard on her she'd blow away like dust.

"Where's Lena?" I asked, casually. A part of me knew I didn't want to know the answer, and from the knowing look Mrs Hertz gave, she didn't want to say either.

"With her boyfriend, I suppose."

"Have you, eh … met him?"

"Not yet. He's apparently quite the character."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure so I'm reserving my judgement for now." I nodded because somehow, I trusted her judgement more than my own. "I'm worried, though." Her eyes became clouded. "She's been away so much; I haven't had chance to tell her something."

"Tell her what?... If you don't mind me knowing."

"Not at all. In fact, I was hoping you could give me a second opinion." She took a sip of tea and sighed. "Her father is coming home."

"Wow," the word slipped from my mouth before I could stop it. "That is big news." And certainly not something Lena was going to like. "Can I ask why?"

"Her father and I never really split up: he decided to go down this career of his just after Lena turned 8. As I'm sure you know, she's never been very happy with that decision."

"So why is he coming back?"

"Luca is going to be studying a masters degree at the local university. They're going to move in for a while until he finds a place to stay."

"I'm not sure how she's going to react to this." I warned.

"That's what I thought. That's why I'm glad she's got somewhere else to stay throughout this."

"The worst thing is going to be that Luca is getting to do a masters; you know she's been wanting to do even a normal degree for years."

"I know," she looked downcast. "If Lena had, she'd have surely moved away. I don't know how Ema and I would have coped."

"That's-," I wanted to protest.
"The reason, however," she interrupted quickly, "Is because Luca has saved up. It's his money. The first time, perhaps, wasn't fair. His dad paid for the undergraduate. But this Masters degree is all from his own pocket and it's for the sake of the business."

"You're going to have to explain this to her."

"Yup," she nodded. "And that's going to be the hard part."

Lena wasn't known for any of the traits her mother had: patience, forethought, a cool head … She was the total opposite, a burning fire of emotions at all times. She said exactly what she wanted, whenever it pleased her. I thought about the last time she'd been given bad news. About a year ago, Lena had saved up a lot of money with all her part-time jobs and planned to go travelling for about a month. I'd never seen her so excited. A couple of days after she'd sorted all the plans with her employers and a few hours before she was going to book the flights, Lena returned to her house … and it had been ransacked by burglars. They'd lost a lot and they didn't have much in the first place. Worse than that, they'd broken things: the refrigerator hadn't even been taken but it was dragged out from the wall and all the workings were broken. It was Kurt's house she'd gone to, not even calling the police. She was so distraught and angry that she couldn't think properly. Kurt had immediately rung me and we both battled to keep her calm.

She still planned to go on her holiday. Her savings were in her bank account. She still had clothes and a suitcase. She still had a passport. In her defiance, she planned to go ahead and leave all her problems back home.

Her mother had told her she could not go, and that had been another blight on their already crumbling relationship.

I could only hope that her new boyfriend was going to get her through whatever storm was coming next.

AN: As I promised! A new chapter! And the story is progressing nicely along.