~*~
I follow the night
Can't stand the light
When will I begin
To live again
One day I'll fly away
Leave all this to yesterday
What more could your love do for me
When will love be through with me
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day when dreaming ends
-Satine, Moulin Rouge
The fairy tale twilight of tiny diamonds caught in the black netting of sky created a dome under which the snow covered ground shone with snow globe perfection. A splash of red added a touch of colour to the sparse surroundings. A girl lay on the ground wrapped in a red silk dress, her chocolate hair spread out around her head like the tangled roots of a wilting flower. She stared upwards, watching the stars move across the sky in a choreographed dance. A faint humming drifted through the night air, its eerie melody slipping into each and every crack where neither light nor shadow could penetrate. It reached the girl's ear, and she tilted her head to listen closely to the tune.
Suddenly, a hand clapped over her mouth and she was unable to scream. The hand increased the pressure and the girl began to suffocate, her remaining breaths becoming snuffed out of her.
And in her bedroom, in the middle of the night, Kay Bennett woke up suddenly drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for breath
~*~
Kay rubbed her tired eyes and padded down the stairs into the kitchen. Sleep had not been any more pleasant after her startling dream. She tried hard to remember all the details, but colours blurred and edges softened until the dream became a wispy cloud in her memory. Reaching a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn she flopped down at the kitchen table and rested her head on its wooden surface. The clank of a cereal bowl startled her as she looked up to see cornflakes cascading into the plastic dish followed by waves of white milk.
"Did you have a nice sleep sweetheart?" her mother asked cheerfully.
"Well actually..." Kay began, before sitting up and realizing her mother had been talking to Charity.
"Just fine Aunt Grace. I had the most wonderful dream," Charity giggled, the words dripping past her syrupy lips.
Grace turned around and it seemed she spotted Kay for the first time.
"Oh good morning honey. How was the dance last night?"
"Just peachy," Kay responded, repressing a scowl. She stared aimlessly into her cereal, idly swirling her spoon through the snow white milk. White like snow...
She let the spoon fall on the table with a metallic clatter and was halfway to the stairs before she shouted, "May I be excused?"
Flopping down on her bed she buried her head in her hands and tried again to remember the dream. White, red and black molded together in a swirl, but she could not pick out specific details. She barely heard the door creak open and the shuffle of her sister's footsteps.
"Someone's in a bad mood this morning... again," Jessica muttered as she sat on her own flowered bed spread. "When did you leave last night? We looked everywhere for you."
"Oh, so you noticed I was gone. Good for you," Kay quipped, sitting up and staring at her younger sibling.
"Don't give me that attitude Kay. You're the one with a bug up your ass, not me."
Kay opened her mouth but before she could reply to Jessica's remarks, the younger girl was on her feet and out of the room. Grumbling to herself, Kay pulled a pillow over her head and let out a muffled scream of frustration.
Dropping the pillow to the floor, Kay shuffled towards her dresser and stood in front of the mirror. With scars on her arms and now bite and scratch marks, her body was the map of a war zone. Pulling a sweatshirt over her head to blanket her marred figure, she approached the window. Peering out she saw a small bird sitting on the window sill. As soon as she pressed her fingers against the glass the bird spread its wings and soared, the summer breeze lifting it and sending it gliding through the air.
Back on the ground Kay Bennett watched through the glass wall of her cage in envy, wishing she had the wings to soar.
~*~
"Kay, when did our friendship become merely an acquaintance?"
Kay was startled at the question, and turned to face her friend. Simone's features were painted in a solemn tone, her mouth a firm and hard line drawn across her face.
"When did this friendship just become convenient?" she continued, "When did it become something that just... is?"
"Maybe it was when you decided to become Charity's best friend instead of mine," Kay retorted, shifting in the plastic lawn chair and staring down the trees that lined the Bennett's backyard.
"Don't give me that crap Kay, when I could have told them everything you did..."
Kay snorted with bitter laughter. Her entire family still didn't know of all her misdeeds, and Simone was the locked vault that kept all her secrets from spilling out.
"Are you going to keep that hanging over my head, or does this conversation have a point?"
She avoided Simone's hurt expression and faced the long line of horizon in front of her. Of course Simone was right, she always was no matter how much Kay hated to admit it. And she was correct now in the astute assessment of their flawed friendship.
"My point is, before your obsession with Miguel and my ridiculous crush on Chad, things were different. I thought that once we got over them that we would go back to being friends instead of accomplices."
Simone had long since given up the notion that Chad had real feelings for her. It made Kay burn with envy that Simone could so easily move on with her life when Kay still felt pinned down. She struggled with the ties of her past that still held her firmly to the ground, forbidding her from taking flight.
"I know that you said you have given up on Miguel, and I am proud of you for that. It's just that now you're..." she paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes to get a better look at Kay, "I mean it just seems like you're..."
"That I'm what, a purple monkey? Spit it out already!"
"Different," Simone finished in a hushed tone, almost like it pained her to say the word. She glanced at Kay's attire, which consisted of the heavy gray sweatshirt and the torn and faded blue jeans she wore almost everyday, despite the sweltering heat of summer. Simone eyed Kay's arms hidden beneath the baggy material. Kay played with the frayed edges of her sleeve nervously, as if afraid Simone would burn a hole through the sleeve with her glare and see the scars of depression.
When Kay didn't reply, Simone leaned towards her and stared straight into her distant eyes. Kay gazed up to see a look of utter pity, and it made her feel like a pathetic worm. "I'm glad you're over Miguel. I'd hate to see you carry that burden in your heart." Simone bit her lip and shook her head slightly, as if she had just said a rehearsed line that she didn't actually believe in, and felt glad that it was over.
Kay remained silent and Simone slowly got to her feet and marched towards the street. It felt as though they had just finished the final court proceedings annulling their friendship. She watched Simone turn into a tiny speck and disappear over the hill, taking the last remnants of their friendship with her.
"Good-bye Simone," Kay murmured to herself.
Looking back as she wandered further from the Bennett house, Simone saw Kay slip further and further away until she was just a shadow of her former friend.
"Good-bye Kay," she whispered, only the night air hearing her solemn farewell.
~*~
His mouth curled into a cocky grin when he saw her.
There she was, hovering in front of the transparent windows of a quaint cafe. She was hunched over her cup of coffee, running a gloved finger around the rim between sips.
Sunshine.
He strutted towards her, his one shoulder dipping in step with his arrogant stride. The leather of his duster brushing against his legs was the only sound as he creeped up behind her.
"What you staring at pet?"
She whipped her head around so fast he thought her ponytail might thrash him across the face. He stepped back slightly and took in her furious glare. Her eyebrows met in a angry point above her scrunched nose as she narrowed her eyes at him.
"Nothing," she spat maliciously before turning around and facing the window again.
Spike casually stepped in front of her, blocking her view. She tried to peak around him but he continued to move in front of her.
"Didn't expect I'd get a dance today Sunshine," he laughed plucking a fresh cigarette from its package and sliding it between his lips.
"Smoking can kill you," the girl muttered
Spike shook with repressed laughter, desperate to spout his effective retort to that remark, but thought the better of it and let his arm drop loosely to his side. "Are you ever going to answer my question?"
"I told you, nothing. Not that it's any of your business anyways. It's nothing," she muttered in a hurry.
Spike looked past her through the window at a sickenly sweet couple sipping their lattees and staring at each other lovingly. "It doesn't look like nothing. As a matter of fact, that is definitely a something. Something you happened to be staring at yesterday in the club..."
Her mouth twitched slightly as she continued to glare at him. "I wasn't staring."
"I think the two eye-shaped holes in that boy's sweater beg to differ. You in love with him?"
The girl's mouth dropped open at his sudden inquiry. "What the hell kind of question is that? I can't believe a perfect stranger is asking me about my love life..."
"Are you?"
Her mouth clamped shut and she scrunched her nose in distaste. She shifted uncomfortably and crossed her arms across her chest. "No, of course not."
He looked at her carefully, and one look in her eyes told him she was lying. He ran his tongue over his teeth and stepped a little closer to her.
"So, you're not in love with Ricky Martin there. Frankly, I don't blame you. It would be a pity for any girl to fall for someone like that..."
"What do you mean, someone like that? Someone like what, in love with someone else?"
"Not unless that someone else is the geek with the glasses who kept checking out your tits last night."
He repressed the mischievous grin forming on his face to steal a glance at her horrified expression. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh well, your boy there is a poof."
"A what?" the girl exclaimed, the horrified look on her face becoming more repulsed every second he spoke.
"Poof, pooftah..." Spike enunciated, slowly emphasizing the vowels with his lips. "He prefers outties to innies..."
The girl clapped her hands over her mouth in shock, finally understanding his full meaning. "Miguel is not gay!"
Spike chortled as he slid the fresh cigarette between his lips and glanced back over his shoulder to take a look at this Miguel. "Well let's see, he dresses impeccably, and he seems to have a fondness for that nancy-boy hair gel. That's always a definite sign. He's also dating a broomstick with hair. You got yourself a flaming poof. Bet he even owns a pair of leather pants..."
"But.."
"I bet that is what attracted you to him in the first place," Spike interrupted, "his kind and gentle nature. The perfect little gentlemen, I wonder where he keeps his valiant steed. Probably next to his Barbara Streisand poster..."
"Stop it! Miguel isn't gay, he is just ... sensitive."
"Right, just like Richard Simmons is just ... flamboyant." Spike stepped towards the window and tapped on the glass, motioning to the skinny girl with flaxen hair. "He probably hasn't even tried to get between her legs, and when he snogs her he's thinking of Mr. Palm Pilot over there," he said pointing towards the boy at the counter pushing his thick black glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I bet those two do a lot with their palms..."
Without warning, the girl stepped forward and punched him in the arm, her fist crinkling the soft leather.
"I don't even know you, and already I think you are a disgusting pig."
"Sing me a new song luv, I've heart that tune before."
"Miguel. Is. Not. Gay," she said, each word a precise cut in the air between them.
Spike dropped his cigarette on the ground, crushing it beneath his boot heel. Mission accomplished.
"You know, for someone who isn't in love with him you sure like to stick up for the boy. You're quite passionate about it in fact..."
The girl's nostrils flared and her eyes widened. "He's just a friend. Just a close friend."
He watched her turn her back to him and flee into the cafe, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He stepped forward and leaned against the glass, watching her closely as she sat down alone at a table, purposely situated far away from this Miguel and his twiggy girlfriend.
"Just a friend eh Sunshine? We'll see about that..."
~*~
The swoosh of black leather was becoming all too familiar.
She watched him saunter in, the mischievous grin still playing across his lips. She tried to hide her face behind her coffee cup, but her hiding place proved to be inadequate when he decided seat himself on the chair across from her. She scowled at him above the simmering brew.
"Are you stalking me?"
He looked taken aback, almost insulted at her inquiry. The wicked grin then returned and he leaned in close, resting his arms on the table.
"So tell me pet, do you have a name?"
"Don't call me pet. I am not your golden retriever or your turtle."
"Don't like turtles, nasty little buggers," he mused before continuing, "No really Sunshine, if I am going to stalk you like you say I am than I need something to call you. I don't want to leave you stuck with such a woefully ironic nickname."
Her upper lip curled in distrust and she took a few sips before responding. "Kay."
"Kay? Pretty name Kay," he repeated the name to himself, letting the single syllable roll off his tongue.
"So, I'll need to know your name as well when I report you to the police."
"C'mon, don't get cheeky now luv. But I'll tell you my name anyway, just because I like you. It's Sp... William."
"Sp-William?" Kay repeated, arching an eyebrow at his blunder. "Was your mother very drunk when she named you?"
"The name's Spike. Used to be William, but that was bloody boring if you ask me."
"Which I am not," Kay interrupted. "Spike... yes your mother was very drunk when she named you. It would explain a lot of things. So William..."
"Spike"
"Whatever. Are you ever planning on telling me why you are following me around?"
He leaned back in his chair, letting one arm hang loosely at his side, while the other remained on the table. She noticed his hands for the first time. They were elegant hands, stark white contrasting with chipped black polish. He was rubbing his fingers together in a circular motion, flakes of black falling on the wooden surface. He brought his hand up to his lips while contemplating her question, as if he was feeding himself the answer. "I can't help it if you live in a shoe box. You are bound to run into people from time to time..."
"Well, do you mind telling me what exactly you feel it is necessary to lecture me on my love life?" she inquired with disdain.
"Or lack thereof?" he finished, "The thing is, when you see someone wrapped up in chains and staked to the ground you don't want to stand by idly."
Kay stared at him for a moment after that odd remark, but he had only to toss a glance at Miguel to begin to understand his meaning.
"You go on pretending what you feel isn't really there, that you are over him," he leaned in close, so that his voice was just above a whisper, "but you will never be over him. He made a nice little dent in your heart, and no amount of plastering over it will cover the damage. It weighs you down, pulls you under and pecks at you until you are an empty shell with nothing inside but damaged goods. For so long all you breathe is them, and when you try and stop it's like cutting off your oxygen supply. You try and get away and it keeps after you, out for blood. Love will break you and throw you to the gutter to be devoured by your own self-hatred. You're like a little bird with broken wings, trying desperately to fly away but you can't. You're stuck on the ground with your face in the dirt and there isn't anything you can do about it."
Kay's eyes were locked in two fierce blue circles staring at her intently. Her heart began to pound wildly at the thought of a complete stranger drilling a hole straight through to her core and taking a peak inside her heart. She was so completely flustered that she did the first thing that came to mind.
She stood up, poured the remaining coffee onto his lap, and walked out the door without a backwards glance.
I follow the night
Can't stand the light
When will I begin
To live again
One day I'll fly away
Leave all this to yesterday
What more could your love do for me
When will love be through with me
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day when dreaming ends
-Satine, Moulin Rouge
The fairy tale twilight of tiny diamonds caught in the black netting of sky created a dome under which the snow covered ground shone with snow globe perfection. A splash of red added a touch of colour to the sparse surroundings. A girl lay on the ground wrapped in a red silk dress, her chocolate hair spread out around her head like the tangled roots of a wilting flower. She stared upwards, watching the stars move across the sky in a choreographed dance. A faint humming drifted through the night air, its eerie melody slipping into each and every crack where neither light nor shadow could penetrate. It reached the girl's ear, and she tilted her head to listen closely to the tune.
Suddenly, a hand clapped over her mouth and she was unable to scream. The hand increased the pressure and the girl began to suffocate, her remaining breaths becoming snuffed out of her.
And in her bedroom, in the middle of the night, Kay Bennett woke up suddenly drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for breath
~*~
Kay rubbed her tired eyes and padded down the stairs into the kitchen. Sleep had not been any more pleasant after her startling dream. She tried hard to remember all the details, but colours blurred and edges softened until the dream became a wispy cloud in her memory. Reaching a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn she flopped down at the kitchen table and rested her head on its wooden surface. The clank of a cereal bowl startled her as she looked up to see cornflakes cascading into the plastic dish followed by waves of white milk.
"Did you have a nice sleep sweetheart?" her mother asked cheerfully.
"Well actually..." Kay began, before sitting up and realizing her mother had been talking to Charity.
"Just fine Aunt Grace. I had the most wonderful dream," Charity giggled, the words dripping past her syrupy lips.
Grace turned around and it seemed she spotted Kay for the first time.
"Oh good morning honey. How was the dance last night?"
"Just peachy," Kay responded, repressing a scowl. She stared aimlessly into her cereal, idly swirling her spoon through the snow white milk. White like snow...
She let the spoon fall on the table with a metallic clatter and was halfway to the stairs before she shouted, "May I be excused?"
Flopping down on her bed she buried her head in her hands and tried again to remember the dream. White, red and black molded together in a swirl, but she could not pick out specific details. She barely heard the door creak open and the shuffle of her sister's footsteps.
"Someone's in a bad mood this morning... again," Jessica muttered as she sat on her own flowered bed spread. "When did you leave last night? We looked everywhere for you."
"Oh, so you noticed I was gone. Good for you," Kay quipped, sitting up and staring at her younger sibling.
"Don't give me that attitude Kay. You're the one with a bug up your ass, not me."
Kay opened her mouth but before she could reply to Jessica's remarks, the younger girl was on her feet and out of the room. Grumbling to herself, Kay pulled a pillow over her head and let out a muffled scream of frustration.
Dropping the pillow to the floor, Kay shuffled towards her dresser and stood in front of the mirror. With scars on her arms and now bite and scratch marks, her body was the map of a war zone. Pulling a sweatshirt over her head to blanket her marred figure, she approached the window. Peering out she saw a small bird sitting on the window sill. As soon as she pressed her fingers against the glass the bird spread its wings and soared, the summer breeze lifting it and sending it gliding through the air.
Back on the ground Kay Bennett watched through the glass wall of her cage in envy, wishing she had the wings to soar.
~*~
"Kay, when did our friendship become merely an acquaintance?"
Kay was startled at the question, and turned to face her friend. Simone's features were painted in a solemn tone, her mouth a firm and hard line drawn across her face.
"When did this friendship just become convenient?" she continued, "When did it become something that just... is?"
"Maybe it was when you decided to become Charity's best friend instead of mine," Kay retorted, shifting in the plastic lawn chair and staring down the trees that lined the Bennett's backyard.
"Don't give me that crap Kay, when I could have told them everything you did..."
Kay snorted with bitter laughter. Her entire family still didn't know of all her misdeeds, and Simone was the locked vault that kept all her secrets from spilling out.
"Are you going to keep that hanging over my head, or does this conversation have a point?"
She avoided Simone's hurt expression and faced the long line of horizon in front of her. Of course Simone was right, she always was no matter how much Kay hated to admit it. And she was correct now in the astute assessment of their flawed friendship.
"My point is, before your obsession with Miguel and my ridiculous crush on Chad, things were different. I thought that once we got over them that we would go back to being friends instead of accomplices."
Simone had long since given up the notion that Chad had real feelings for her. It made Kay burn with envy that Simone could so easily move on with her life when Kay still felt pinned down. She struggled with the ties of her past that still held her firmly to the ground, forbidding her from taking flight.
"I know that you said you have given up on Miguel, and I am proud of you for that. It's just that now you're..." she paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes to get a better look at Kay, "I mean it just seems like you're..."
"That I'm what, a purple monkey? Spit it out already!"
"Different," Simone finished in a hushed tone, almost like it pained her to say the word. She glanced at Kay's attire, which consisted of the heavy gray sweatshirt and the torn and faded blue jeans she wore almost everyday, despite the sweltering heat of summer. Simone eyed Kay's arms hidden beneath the baggy material. Kay played with the frayed edges of her sleeve nervously, as if afraid Simone would burn a hole through the sleeve with her glare and see the scars of depression.
When Kay didn't reply, Simone leaned towards her and stared straight into her distant eyes. Kay gazed up to see a look of utter pity, and it made her feel like a pathetic worm. "I'm glad you're over Miguel. I'd hate to see you carry that burden in your heart." Simone bit her lip and shook her head slightly, as if she had just said a rehearsed line that she didn't actually believe in, and felt glad that it was over.
Kay remained silent and Simone slowly got to her feet and marched towards the street. It felt as though they had just finished the final court proceedings annulling their friendship. She watched Simone turn into a tiny speck and disappear over the hill, taking the last remnants of their friendship with her.
"Good-bye Simone," Kay murmured to herself.
Looking back as she wandered further from the Bennett house, Simone saw Kay slip further and further away until she was just a shadow of her former friend.
"Good-bye Kay," she whispered, only the night air hearing her solemn farewell.
~*~
His mouth curled into a cocky grin when he saw her.
There she was, hovering in front of the transparent windows of a quaint cafe. She was hunched over her cup of coffee, running a gloved finger around the rim between sips.
Sunshine.
He strutted towards her, his one shoulder dipping in step with his arrogant stride. The leather of his duster brushing against his legs was the only sound as he creeped up behind her.
"What you staring at pet?"
She whipped her head around so fast he thought her ponytail might thrash him across the face. He stepped back slightly and took in her furious glare. Her eyebrows met in a angry point above her scrunched nose as she narrowed her eyes at him.
"Nothing," she spat maliciously before turning around and facing the window again.
Spike casually stepped in front of her, blocking her view. She tried to peak around him but he continued to move in front of her.
"Didn't expect I'd get a dance today Sunshine," he laughed plucking a fresh cigarette from its package and sliding it between his lips.
"Smoking can kill you," the girl muttered
Spike shook with repressed laughter, desperate to spout his effective retort to that remark, but thought the better of it and let his arm drop loosely to his side. "Are you ever going to answer my question?"
"I told you, nothing. Not that it's any of your business anyways. It's nothing," she muttered in a hurry.
Spike looked past her through the window at a sickenly sweet couple sipping their lattees and staring at each other lovingly. "It doesn't look like nothing. As a matter of fact, that is definitely a something. Something you happened to be staring at yesterday in the club..."
Her mouth twitched slightly as she continued to glare at him. "I wasn't staring."
"I think the two eye-shaped holes in that boy's sweater beg to differ. You in love with him?"
The girl's mouth dropped open at his sudden inquiry. "What the hell kind of question is that? I can't believe a perfect stranger is asking me about my love life..."
"Are you?"
Her mouth clamped shut and she scrunched her nose in distaste. She shifted uncomfortably and crossed her arms across her chest. "No, of course not."
He looked at her carefully, and one look in her eyes told him she was lying. He ran his tongue over his teeth and stepped a little closer to her.
"So, you're not in love with Ricky Martin there. Frankly, I don't blame you. It would be a pity for any girl to fall for someone like that..."
"What do you mean, someone like that? Someone like what, in love with someone else?"
"Not unless that someone else is the geek with the glasses who kept checking out your tits last night."
He repressed the mischievous grin forming on his face to steal a glance at her horrified expression. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh well, your boy there is a poof."
"A what?" the girl exclaimed, the horrified look on her face becoming more repulsed every second he spoke.
"Poof, pooftah..." Spike enunciated, slowly emphasizing the vowels with his lips. "He prefers outties to innies..."
The girl clapped her hands over her mouth in shock, finally understanding his full meaning. "Miguel is not gay!"
Spike chortled as he slid the fresh cigarette between his lips and glanced back over his shoulder to take a look at this Miguel. "Well let's see, he dresses impeccably, and he seems to have a fondness for that nancy-boy hair gel. That's always a definite sign. He's also dating a broomstick with hair. You got yourself a flaming poof. Bet he even owns a pair of leather pants..."
"But.."
"I bet that is what attracted you to him in the first place," Spike interrupted, "his kind and gentle nature. The perfect little gentlemen, I wonder where he keeps his valiant steed. Probably next to his Barbara Streisand poster..."
"Stop it! Miguel isn't gay, he is just ... sensitive."
"Right, just like Richard Simmons is just ... flamboyant." Spike stepped towards the window and tapped on the glass, motioning to the skinny girl with flaxen hair. "He probably hasn't even tried to get between her legs, and when he snogs her he's thinking of Mr. Palm Pilot over there," he said pointing towards the boy at the counter pushing his thick black glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I bet those two do a lot with their palms..."
Without warning, the girl stepped forward and punched him in the arm, her fist crinkling the soft leather.
"I don't even know you, and already I think you are a disgusting pig."
"Sing me a new song luv, I've heart that tune before."
"Miguel. Is. Not. Gay," she said, each word a precise cut in the air between them.
Spike dropped his cigarette on the ground, crushing it beneath his boot heel. Mission accomplished.
"You know, for someone who isn't in love with him you sure like to stick up for the boy. You're quite passionate about it in fact..."
The girl's nostrils flared and her eyes widened. "He's just a friend. Just a close friend."
He watched her turn her back to him and flee into the cafe, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He stepped forward and leaned against the glass, watching her closely as she sat down alone at a table, purposely situated far away from this Miguel and his twiggy girlfriend.
"Just a friend eh Sunshine? We'll see about that..."
~*~
The swoosh of black leather was becoming all too familiar.
She watched him saunter in, the mischievous grin still playing across his lips. She tried to hide her face behind her coffee cup, but her hiding place proved to be inadequate when he decided seat himself on the chair across from her. She scowled at him above the simmering brew.
"Are you stalking me?"
He looked taken aback, almost insulted at her inquiry. The wicked grin then returned and he leaned in close, resting his arms on the table.
"So tell me pet, do you have a name?"
"Don't call me pet. I am not your golden retriever or your turtle."
"Don't like turtles, nasty little buggers," he mused before continuing, "No really Sunshine, if I am going to stalk you like you say I am than I need something to call you. I don't want to leave you stuck with such a woefully ironic nickname."
Her upper lip curled in distrust and she took a few sips before responding. "Kay."
"Kay? Pretty name Kay," he repeated the name to himself, letting the single syllable roll off his tongue.
"So, I'll need to know your name as well when I report you to the police."
"C'mon, don't get cheeky now luv. But I'll tell you my name anyway, just because I like you. It's Sp... William."
"Sp-William?" Kay repeated, arching an eyebrow at his blunder. "Was your mother very drunk when she named you?"
"The name's Spike. Used to be William, but that was bloody boring if you ask me."
"Which I am not," Kay interrupted. "Spike... yes your mother was very drunk when she named you. It would explain a lot of things. So William..."
"Spike"
"Whatever. Are you ever planning on telling me why you are following me around?"
He leaned back in his chair, letting one arm hang loosely at his side, while the other remained on the table. She noticed his hands for the first time. They were elegant hands, stark white contrasting with chipped black polish. He was rubbing his fingers together in a circular motion, flakes of black falling on the wooden surface. He brought his hand up to his lips while contemplating her question, as if he was feeding himself the answer. "I can't help it if you live in a shoe box. You are bound to run into people from time to time..."
"Well, do you mind telling me what exactly you feel it is necessary to lecture me on my love life?" she inquired with disdain.
"Or lack thereof?" he finished, "The thing is, when you see someone wrapped up in chains and staked to the ground you don't want to stand by idly."
Kay stared at him for a moment after that odd remark, but he had only to toss a glance at Miguel to begin to understand his meaning.
"You go on pretending what you feel isn't really there, that you are over him," he leaned in close, so that his voice was just above a whisper, "but you will never be over him. He made a nice little dent in your heart, and no amount of plastering over it will cover the damage. It weighs you down, pulls you under and pecks at you until you are an empty shell with nothing inside but damaged goods. For so long all you breathe is them, and when you try and stop it's like cutting off your oxygen supply. You try and get away and it keeps after you, out for blood. Love will break you and throw you to the gutter to be devoured by your own self-hatred. You're like a little bird with broken wings, trying desperately to fly away but you can't. You're stuck on the ground with your face in the dirt and there isn't anything you can do about it."
Kay's eyes were locked in two fierce blue circles staring at her intently. Her heart began to pound wildly at the thought of a complete stranger drilling a hole straight through to her core and taking a peak inside her heart. She was so completely flustered that she did the first thing that came to mind.
She stood up, poured the remaining coffee onto his lap, and walked out the door without a backwards glance.