Chapter Six:



"So, how did you like the movie?" Claire asked.
"It was okay." Steve replied. "It wasn't what I expected that's all."
"Oh." Claire said softly, stirring her milkshake around. "I was kind of expecting it to be better than that, too."
"You can never trust these movies." Steve said, staring at her harshly, as if he somehow felt that this was her fault.
"I'm sorry." She said, sighing and not feeling one bit sorry. Why should she have? "Steve, since the movie was kind of dull, why
don't we go out and do something fun? To lighten up? You're leaving tomorrow night. Why don't we?"
"Why don't we what?" Steve asked.
"Go out." Claire said. "Dancing, a concert, whatever... stuff we USED to do."
Steve sighed deeply and shook his head. "Damn, Claire, I just don't know. I'm not in the mood."
Just then, two girls, about sixteen or seventeen years of age passed by in skimpy halters and miniskirts. Steve's eyes followed them
with interest and Claire felt the tiny hairs on her back prickle in anger. Didn't he CARE that she was unhappy? That she felt neglected?
That she wanted better on her anniversary than some crappy movie and a porno later on? Lord knows she had told him more
than once.
"Of course." She said, angrily. "You're never in the mood for anything anymore. Except getting laid."
Steve snapped his head around and glared at her sharply. "What?"
Claire took her time in repeating herself, sipping a little bit of her milkshake then licking her lips after.
"I said," she replied slowly, "All that you care about is getting laid."
"That isn't true." Steve said frowning deeply at her.
"Yes it is." Claire said frustratedly, "Don't tell me that it isn't, because it is!"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Steve demanded.
"You want to know? All right, I'll tell you." She replied, standing up. "I've put up with your demands and needs and unfaithfulness
for eight years. I'm tired of it."
People started to turn around to look at her, Claire didn't care, she was on a rollercoaster and she couldn't stop herself or her
emotions from coming out.
"What are you talking about, Claire? You know that I love you." Steve said, obviously desperate to have the wounded part in this
argument.
"You do NOT love me!" She exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the table as more people stopped to listen to her. "It isn't
love when you hurt and humiliate a person all the time. Love isn't when you cheat on them left and right and expect them to welcome
you back with open arms! And love isn't something that you can trample on for long and think that it's still going to be there--if it
isn't nourished then it disappears."
Out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw a young woman nod and hit her boyfriend on the arm, as if she were saying all that
they were experiencing. Ignoring them, she turned back to Steve and folded her arms. "I've washed your clothes, cooked your
meals, kept your house the way you want it, I've been everything that you've ever asked me to be--EVERYTHING!" She exhaled
heavily and held back the tears in her eyes. "But... Steve, I just can't be everything anymore."
"Claire," Steve said in a low, warning tone. "If you don't stop acting crazy, you'll never see me again--"
"BULLSHIT." She shouted. "Go ahead and be with your little blonde floozies. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. Just don't expect me
to take you back."
With that, she grabbed her milkshake and threw it at Steve. Throwing it down on the ground, she stomped away, the spectators
around her clapping and whistling. This was all entertainment for them. It was nice to finally have SOME attention but they didn't
know or understand her secret pain that she'd been suffering for so long. Claire choked back the sobs in her throat as she tripped along the mall
her ankles aching terribly from the red spiked heels on her feet. Leaning against the wall in aggravation, she took them off and
started away again. Some men who saw her display at the food court whistled at her flirtatiously.
"Hey, baby, looking for a new one already?" One asked.
"Why don't you take me home with you? Come on, I'll be good. REAL good."
Trying to block them out, she pressed her palms against her ears and pushed away the double doors that lead into the bathrooms
and payphones. Finally releasing a sob, she fell against the wall and let the tears roll down. Looking down, she rummaged in her
small handbag for a quarter and then took hold of the payphone receiver. Once she put the quarter into the slot, she realized something,
she had no idea who she would call.



Leon Kennedy stared blankly up at the ceiling as he laid down on his back. Why was he still awake, when just a second ago he
felt that he would crash out as soon as his head hit the pillow? A heavy feeling had settled on his chest, making him feel light-headed
and tipsy, every now and then a stinging twinge would invade his nose and his eyes would start to water. Damn these allergies.
Heaving a breath he lampooned his pathetic attempt at rationalization. Turning to the side, he caught a picture of Claire sitting in
Steve's lap, smiling happily as he playfully tickled her side. He had been away a long time. He hadn't even known that Claire had
been seeing Steve for the past eight years, let alone living with him. He had let himself blindly believe that she would still be available.
Scoffing in disdain, he turned away, then after some thought, looked back.
'That man in the picture could have been you.' He chided himself. 'Claire could be in YOUR arms right now. Where have you been?'
Good question. For the past seven and a half years he'd been moving from fort to fort, hanging out with men whose testosterone
levels were higher than their I.Q.s. Leon had gone to every strip club and drink out that his Army buddies had talked him into going
to but he never did find any woman who matched up to Claire Redfield's beauty and vibrant, pure personality. He hadn't known
just how much he missed her until he came back.
With a groan, he pulled himself up and headed for the kitchen nook for something to eat. Anything to get his mind of Claire
would be perfect. Opening the refrigerator he peeked in and rummaged around, to his dismay, nothing looked that appetizing. He
looked through the cabinets and finally found a bag of pretzels. Before he closed it, he noticed that there were quite a few bottles
of vodka, whiskey and tequilla on the topmost shelf, turning back to the fridge, he opened it up and saw a couple of beer bottles
scattered around. He'd never seen Claire drink anything like this stuff. Steve, on the other hand, was always drinking some form
of alcohol whenever he saw him. He had just never let it bother him until now.
Leon ripped open the bag of pretzels and began to munch on it and flipped through the channels on the TV. Nothing really
interesting. All the shows he saw were about romance and other stuff that he was trying to forget about. Finally resigning himself
he sat back and allowed himself to think of Claire once more. As if on cue, the phone rang and he reached over to answer it.
"Hello?" He said into the receiver.
Silence on the other end.
"Hello?" He repeated. He was about to hang up when he sensed light breathing on the other end. "Is anyone there?"
"Leon?" A hesitant voice spoke up.
"Yes?" He asked, sitting up suddenly. "Claire? Where are you? Is something wrong?"
"Can you come and pick me up?" She asked in a small voice.