Devotion 2
Disclaimer: Not really sure who the owner is but since I'm here writing this fanfic it's obvious that the owner isn't me –unfortunately. I wouldn't mind having Terry in my house:]
Author's note: God, I'm so terribly sorry! In the first chapter I called Terry's friend Ted, when it was actually Dino. I mistook the other kidnapping negotiator with the guy from the company Peter Bowman worked for. Please, don't ask how I did that, I just did, I don't know how but I did and now I'm fixing my mistake. So it's DINO and not TED. Sorry for all the confusion I may have caused.
Also, thank you for the reviews I'm receiving. Honestly, it's more than I had actually expected. The movie is amazing and I so hope I'm not messing with the characters and this history doesn't suck.
Enjoy. =]
Chapter Two – Sweet Nothings.
She was trying to stop smoking, though she wasn't exactly sure why. Since she got into college and started with that very unhealthy habit she used cigarettes in moments of extreme tension or moments or nervousness to calm her nerves –during Peter's kidnapping cigarettes were her best friend. Now she was finding out on the hard way how it was to live without her daily friend.
As the dry wind blew on her face, extinguishing the weak fire burning on the tip of her cigarette she cursed the fucking necessity for it. Stopping and reaching her back pocket she searched for her lighter, soon finding it and brought it closer to her face and using one hand to protect her anger killer from the wind, she lit her cigarette again, then resumed walking down the pavement on the street of her house.
She cursed Peter silently for the umpteenth time this morning, thinking back of the events of their latest fight and how much unfair Peter had been this time. She felt some unknown anger boiling up inside her and bubbling out of her mouth, in form of cigarette smoke. Blowing out the fume with more harshness than it was needed, she balled her free hand and threw it aimless around, internally hoping to randomly find something to make her hand make contact with.
Maybe then she could get rid of all frustration.
Using her feet to kick the asphalt with each step as she walked, she took in deep breaths along with the smoke of her cigarette, cursing Peter again, and even wondering what the hell she was still doing with him. Then she stopped, widening her eyes at this very thought, feeling something similar to regret for the thought of not needing him anymore –someone that once she had come to love so much.
Shaking her head, Alice resumed walking again, pondering about the fact that they couldn't work things out in the moment, that maybe they should do as Peter had suggested once, back in Colombia when their marriage was in a very shaky place, that maybe they should give a break, take some time off, away from each other, clear their heads. If all they could when in the same place on the same time was argue, then they definitely should do something about it before they could hurt each other really bad with all the harsh words they seemed to be throwing at each other.
And Alice seriously had to do something about her running away or closing herself up when Peter tried to open her up completely.
But he couldn't do that, Alice thought –he'd never be able to make her open up if he didn't understand her, if he acted as if she wasn't more important than any stupid project, than his work. It'd never work if he didn't get his priorities straight, if he kept on thinking that they were an issue to be discussed.
Alice had believed, once upon a time, that the kidnapping would have given them a new perspective, but obviously –with their daily fight- it hadn't and they were just the same problematic couple of before.
Today was the worst of their fights, this time Peter had accused her of not caring, that if it was for her he wouldn't be there with her. Of course he had regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth and even though he apologized afterwards it still had hurt her more than he could ever know.
He would never know, he wasn't there with her when she cried in the kitchen or the bathroom, or any hidden place so no one would see how shaken she was, or when she couldn't sleep at night wondering what awful things they could be doing to Peter, or when she was hearing Marco say those horrible things, or even when they were moving earth and skies to find a way to bring him back alive. No... he wasn't the one with her.
Terry was.
Oh God... there she was, thinking of him again.
Her hands were suddenly becoming sweaty, so Alice threw the rest of her cigarette away and dried her palms on the material of her jeans, then took another cigarette and lit it on.
Maybe she should give up on trying to quit smoking.
Or maybe she should...
No, Alice don't think that! Her inner voice told her harshly.
But maybe it was the only solution, maybe she really should get away from Peter, taking her time to go see Terry and end with all her doubts and confusion and finally get on with her life.
Maybe that was the only existent solution...
T-T
Easing her pace, taking her time to lift each foot and take its step, she slowly found her way inside her house, her eyes meeting with the brightly lit living room. Well, well, at least Peter was considering enough to let some light on for when she got home. Though neither of them thought she would stay out so late.
Clearing her head had taken longer than she thought, than she had previously needed to calm herself down and come back home without the verbal lashing attitude. And to her luck –which would really help matters- as she walked inside the house she realized Peter was nowhere to be seen, probably upstairs already sleeping.
Something tugged in her heart and she wasn't sure what it was. Could it be possibly the disappointment of Peter not being downstairs, sitting on his armchair, drinking whisky as an act of nervousness as he waited her up worried that something could happen to her? Or could it be that she was relieved he wasn't there? That he wasn't in her line of sight, waiting for her with all he had guarded to say to her? Or maybe it was because things just weren't the same? Whichever one was she still could feel the deep tugging, as if it was there only to remember her of what she was losing.
Or maybe earning.
That was a sign, maybe. That someone was telling her that it was time to move on, to get on with her life because Peter seemed to be doing exactly that, the thought bitterly crossed her mind and she didn't even care to stop it from coming.
Damn it, she was overreacting again.
Sighing rather dramatically, Alice stomped her way up, but not loudly enough to wake up Peter if he was already sleeping –she didn't want to deal with him right now- and headed to their bedroom, turning on the lights of the corridor on her way, but, as she opened the door –the orange triangle formed by the light coming from outside the bedroom half illuminating the laying form on the bed, somehow the sight made her change her mind and decided she didn't want to sleep there.
She didn't want to sleep next to him anymore.
She felt goosbumps on her skin, as a soft imagined breeze blew around her, surprised at herself for the thought that had just entered her mind. When did she start thinking those things? God, when did she start thinking that sleeping in the same bed as Peter –her husband- was forbidden, wrong? Because that was how she felt, how she was seeing things. It was, perhaps, because she was thinking of another man while lying beside her husband? -It might be, her inner self answered, which seemed to be from little to no help lately.
She sighed again, but this time so silently that she herself barely noticed. She shouldn't be thinking of another man in the first place. Especially not the man that had risked his own life to save her husband's. Not him, not that wonderful, handsome, kind, gentle man...
"Jesus Christ..." She muttered barely above a whisper under the half darkened room. Resting her thin frame on the doorframe and let her head touch the cold wood material, feeling its coldness penetrate her head and run through the length of her small frame.
God... she was really in such a real mess...
Casting a look at Peter she realized that things would never be the same again, not while she still had thoughts of Terry, not while she couldn't take him off of her mind, not while she looked at Peter and instead of feeling the welcoming peace home made her feel, she felt as if it was all wrong.
Walking silently to the closet she took from there a pillow and a comforter, deciding that spending the night alone and the couch would be the better solution.
T-T
Waking up the next day had been easier than she had thought. After the restless night full of tossing's and turning's and dreams of Colombia, of Terry and Peter and the uncountable times she woke up in the middle of the night cursing whatever God was out there for the tiring day she'd have ahead of her.
But no, she wasn't feeling tired at all –actually she was feeling renewed and rested and with the hopes of a bright day ahead. Of course she wasn't thinking of Peter when those thoughts crossed her mind, she was thinking of the couple of dreams she had of Terry and the sweet, gentle kisses he placed along her neck and the length of her body while his hands explored the land he knew all too well in her dreams.
She shook her head with a harshness she didn't need as she threw the comforter on the far end of the couch and swept her legs out of it. A cigarette and a hot mug of the so loved black coffee would clear her head and make thoughts she shouldn't be thinking go away from her head.
She folded the comforter carefully before leaving for the kitchen and, as she ran her hands over her face to wipe away the rest of sleep her eyes met with Peter's back, as he was bent over the kitchen counter fumbling with the coffee-maker since he never learned how to use that correctly.
Hearing her footsteps he stopped doing what he was trying to do and turned to face her, his eyes meeting the soft blueness of her deep azure eyes. "Hey." He said softly, so uncertain of himself that Alice almost felt sorry for him –almost.
"Hey." She said back, not moving from the doorway, wondering whether she should come inside the kitchen or not.
"I-I was trying to make some coffee."
"I noticed." She said, her voice empty of any emotions, not that she tried to be cold, or sound cold, it just came out that way.
"Look, Alice..." He started and in a nervous move she knew very well, Peter ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you..."
"You really shouldn't. You were very unfair, Peter." She said, taking her time to face him, look him in the eye and cross her arms protectively over her chest.
"I was nervous, out of my mind. I didn't mean all those stuff."
"This is totally wrong. You can't just say hard things and say you're sorry later and expect me to forgive you. You hurt me, Peter. You hurt me pretty badly. Accusing me of not caring was the worst thing you could have ever done."
"Alice, I was angry. What did you want me to do? We're fighting so much lately that when we're arguing I just say anything that comes to my mind."
"You know, Peter..." Alice whispered, finally stepping inside the kitchen, coming fully into his view. She wondered if he had at least missed her during the night, if he had woken up and gone downstairs to check on her and make sure she was all right, if he had even cared to see if she had come home. "This is getting worse. I thought-I thought that if we were back home, back to where we belonged we would work things out... But it just seems impossible."
"What are you talking about?" Peter half asked; half chuckled, not really believing in her words –the meaning behind them as he stepped closer to her.
"I think we should give a break. We should..."
"No. I'm not giving up on you."
"Peter, look at us!" She exclaimed, waving her arms frenetically around, trying to show him the situation and put some sense into his head. "You said it yourself once. We should take different ways; take some time alone." And, with a deep, sad sight, she added: "It's not working."
And then he stood there, just looking at her, not saying a word as if he was trying to absorb al that she had said, to believe in her words. Even if he tried he wouldn't be able to argue with her, he had said these words to her once and didn't give her time to argue back, to say what she wanted. He had told her to leave and now she as doing the same, now that she finally saw the reality of their marriage –their failed marriage.
"You know, you're right. You're so absolutely right. We should have done it long before –before this reached the place it is now." He said and without waiting for an answer he walked past her and left the kitchen, leaving her alone with her own thoughts and memories.
T-T
Sitting there, outside in the porch, staring out at the beautiful scenery that lay before him, Terry remembered of the beauty of the woman he had fallen in love with. The old, expansive red wine he had bought a little while ago was open and half of it was already gone, befriending the never- away cigarette dangerously hanging in between Terry's lips.
Taking a sip of the wine, which tasted just as like Alice's lips –he could recall that with as much vivacity as if he had kissed her only minutes ago- he glanced out, staring off into space for a second as recalled every move from the day they kissed, then focusing his eyes on the scenery he took in a deep sigh, breathing in the fresh cold air. He couldn't remember where he had seen a sight as beautiful as the one in front of him, with the lake glowing weakly under the sunlight of November, which rarely happened –the sun shinning like it was today. The buildings off far away where he could only see the shapes and shadows of them, the trees and green grazes just ahead, the breeze blowing softly...
Definitely that was his favorite place of the house.
Taking another sip of the wine he finally decided it was enough and closed the bottle, putting the empty glass next to it then threw his cigarette away and with a heavy sigh he leaned back on the chair and rubbed his face with harsh fingers. Maybe the pain would take his mind away from certain thoughts.
God... He should be able to move on, he should be able to forget her and get on with his life –but why couldn't he? He had never felt that way about anyone before and now, the first time he did feel it he had to let it go. He didn't want to let go, to let her go, he wanted her with him even knowing she was someone else's –she was Peter's. He couldn't stop himself but think how Peter was a lucky son of a bitch.
And how much he wished he was in Peter's place...
"Are you deaf or something?"
Startled by the sudden voice coming from nowhere, Terry snapped his head up, looking at the direction of the noise and finding Dino with his arms crossed and a frown over his face.
"What?"
"Are you deaf? I knocked on the door about a thousand times. If I didn't know you were home at this hour I would think no one was here. I actually thought you went down for a walk, but with the situation you're in lately I doubted that was the reason no one was answering the door."
Terry rolled his eyes and sighed, getting up to be eye level with Dino. "I was just thinking." Then, avoiding his eyes, he busied himself cleaning the table, taking the wine bottle, glass and the box of the pizza he was eating earlier, with him to the kitchen.
"Obviously." Dino muttered as he walked closely behind him. "Terry..."
Swirling around to face Dino, Terry didn't even have time to put the things in his hands down. "Just don't start that again." He said with a hard face and serious expression that made Dino's own expression soften.
"Look, I'm just worried, OK? I'm leaving tomorrow and who will watch out for you? Yourself? I hardly believe my friend." He said with a smile to break the growing tension.
"I always did that." Terry said with his own smile and resumed putting the garbage away and the glass and bottle on the kitchen counter.
"Well, yeah but it was before."
Before –he didn't need to ask before what because even though Dino didn't say, Terry knew. Before Alice Terry knew exactly what to do, how to feel, how to react but after her he just seemed to not be in control anymore.
"Look, I'm fine, OK? No worries, really."
Staring for much longer than it was necessary at his friend's face, Dino smiled a bit, even though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, then nodded, trying hard to believe in Terry. "Ok." He nodded solemnly letting out a sigh of desistance. "I'm not going to talk about this anymore." And checking his watch he let out another sigh. "I have to go pack now. I hope to see you when we're visiting our money!" He exclaimed, punching Terry playfully on the arm.
"You can count on that, mate." Terry said; giving Dino the most sincere smile he could manage at the moment.
Dino nodded, and sensing they had nothing else to talk about he finally found his way to the front door. "See you then." He said, giving Terry a smile, hoping that he'd be able to get a grip on his feelings and finally take control over what he should be feeling, controlling the fact that he had fallen for the woman he shouldn't have.
Be able to finally move on.
T-T
End of chapter 2. This isn't what I wanted at first, which is funny because I don't have idea where I'm going with this fanfic. Either way I hope you did enjoy this chapter and that it's not so boring, worthy enough to make you leave me a review.
Thank you. =]
Disclaimer: Not really sure who the owner is but since I'm here writing this fanfic it's obvious that the owner isn't me –unfortunately. I wouldn't mind having Terry in my house:]
Author's note: God, I'm so terribly sorry! In the first chapter I called Terry's friend Ted, when it was actually Dino. I mistook the other kidnapping negotiator with the guy from the company Peter Bowman worked for. Please, don't ask how I did that, I just did, I don't know how but I did and now I'm fixing my mistake. So it's DINO and not TED. Sorry for all the confusion I may have caused.
Also, thank you for the reviews I'm receiving. Honestly, it's more than I had actually expected. The movie is amazing and I so hope I'm not messing with the characters and this history doesn't suck.
Enjoy. =]
Chapter Two – Sweet Nothings.
She was trying to stop smoking, though she wasn't exactly sure why. Since she got into college and started with that very unhealthy habit she used cigarettes in moments of extreme tension or moments or nervousness to calm her nerves –during Peter's kidnapping cigarettes were her best friend. Now she was finding out on the hard way how it was to live without her daily friend.
As the dry wind blew on her face, extinguishing the weak fire burning on the tip of her cigarette she cursed the fucking necessity for it. Stopping and reaching her back pocket she searched for her lighter, soon finding it and brought it closer to her face and using one hand to protect her anger killer from the wind, she lit her cigarette again, then resumed walking down the pavement on the street of her house.
She cursed Peter silently for the umpteenth time this morning, thinking back of the events of their latest fight and how much unfair Peter had been this time. She felt some unknown anger boiling up inside her and bubbling out of her mouth, in form of cigarette smoke. Blowing out the fume with more harshness than it was needed, she balled her free hand and threw it aimless around, internally hoping to randomly find something to make her hand make contact with.
Maybe then she could get rid of all frustration.
Using her feet to kick the asphalt with each step as she walked, she took in deep breaths along with the smoke of her cigarette, cursing Peter again, and even wondering what the hell she was still doing with him. Then she stopped, widening her eyes at this very thought, feeling something similar to regret for the thought of not needing him anymore –someone that once she had come to love so much.
Shaking her head, Alice resumed walking again, pondering about the fact that they couldn't work things out in the moment, that maybe they should do as Peter had suggested once, back in Colombia when their marriage was in a very shaky place, that maybe they should give a break, take some time off, away from each other, clear their heads. If all they could when in the same place on the same time was argue, then they definitely should do something about it before they could hurt each other really bad with all the harsh words they seemed to be throwing at each other.
And Alice seriously had to do something about her running away or closing herself up when Peter tried to open her up completely.
But he couldn't do that, Alice thought –he'd never be able to make her open up if he didn't understand her, if he acted as if she wasn't more important than any stupid project, than his work. It'd never work if he didn't get his priorities straight, if he kept on thinking that they were an issue to be discussed.
Alice had believed, once upon a time, that the kidnapping would have given them a new perspective, but obviously –with their daily fight- it hadn't and they were just the same problematic couple of before.
Today was the worst of their fights, this time Peter had accused her of not caring, that if it was for her he wouldn't be there with her. Of course he had regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth and even though he apologized afterwards it still had hurt her more than he could ever know.
He would never know, he wasn't there with her when she cried in the kitchen or the bathroom, or any hidden place so no one would see how shaken she was, or when she couldn't sleep at night wondering what awful things they could be doing to Peter, or when she was hearing Marco say those horrible things, or even when they were moving earth and skies to find a way to bring him back alive. No... he wasn't the one with her.
Terry was.
Oh God... there she was, thinking of him again.
Her hands were suddenly becoming sweaty, so Alice threw the rest of her cigarette away and dried her palms on the material of her jeans, then took another cigarette and lit it on.
Maybe she should give up on trying to quit smoking.
Or maybe she should...
No, Alice don't think that! Her inner voice told her harshly.
But maybe it was the only solution, maybe she really should get away from Peter, taking her time to go see Terry and end with all her doubts and confusion and finally get on with her life.
Maybe that was the only existent solution...
T-T
Easing her pace, taking her time to lift each foot and take its step, she slowly found her way inside her house, her eyes meeting with the brightly lit living room. Well, well, at least Peter was considering enough to let some light on for when she got home. Though neither of them thought she would stay out so late.
Clearing her head had taken longer than she thought, than she had previously needed to calm herself down and come back home without the verbal lashing attitude. And to her luck –which would really help matters- as she walked inside the house she realized Peter was nowhere to be seen, probably upstairs already sleeping.
Something tugged in her heart and she wasn't sure what it was. Could it be possibly the disappointment of Peter not being downstairs, sitting on his armchair, drinking whisky as an act of nervousness as he waited her up worried that something could happen to her? Or could it be that she was relieved he wasn't there? That he wasn't in her line of sight, waiting for her with all he had guarded to say to her? Or maybe it was because things just weren't the same? Whichever one was she still could feel the deep tugging, as if it was there only to remember her of what she was losing.
Or maybe earning.
That was a sign, maybe. That someone was telling her that it was time to move on, to get on with her life because Peter seemed to be doing exactly that, the thought bitterly crossed her mind and she didn't even care to stop it from coming.
Damn it, she was overreacting again.
Sighing rather dramatically, Alice stomped her way up, but not loudly enough to wake up Peter if he was already sleeping –she didn't want to deal with him right now- and headed to their bedroom, turning on the lights of the corridor on her way, but, as she opened the door –the orange triangle formed by the light coming from outside the bedroom half illuminating the laying form on the bed, somehow the sight made her change her mind and decided she didn't want to sleep there.
She didn't want to sleep next to him anymore.
She felt goosbumps on her skin, as a soft imagined breeze blew around her, surprised at herself for the thought that had just entered her mind. When did she start thinking those things? God, when did she start thinking that sleeping in the same bed as Peter –her husband- was forbidden, wrong? Because that was how she felt, how she was seeing things. It was, perhaps, because she was thinking of another man while lying beside her husband? -It might be, her inner self answered, which seemed to be from little to no help lately.
She sighed again, but this time so silently that she herself barely noticed. She shouldn't be thinking of another man in the first place. Especially not the man that had risked his own life to save her husband's. Not him, not that wonderful, handsome, kind, gentle man...
"Jesus Christ..." She muttered barely above a whisper under the half darkened room. Resting her thin frame on the doorframe and let her head touch the cold wood material, feeling its coldness penetrate her head and run through the length of her small frame.
God... she was really in such a real mess...
Casting a look at Peter she realized that things would never be the same again, not while she still had thoughts of Terry, not while she couldn't take him off of her mind, not while she looked at Peter and instead of feeling the welcoming peace home made her feel, she felt as if it was all wrong.
Walking silently to the closet she took from there a pillow and a comforter, deciding that spending the night alone and the couch would be the better solution.
T-T
Waking up the next day had been easier than she had thought. After the restless night full of tossing's and turning's and dreams of Colombia, of Terry and Peter and the uncountable times she woke up in the middle of the night cursing whatever God was out there for the tiring day she'd have ahead of her.
But no, she wasn't feeling tired at all –actually she was feeling renewed and rested and with the hopes of a bright day ahead. Of course she wasn't thinking of Peter when those thoughts crossed her mind, she was thinking of the couple of dreams she had of Terry and the sweet, gentle kisses he placed along her neck and the length of her body while his hands explored the land he knew all too well in her dreams.
She shook her head with a harshness she didn't need as she threw the comforter on the far end of the couch and swept her legs out of it. A cigarette and a hot mug of the so loved black coffee would clear her head and make thoughts she shouldn't be thinking go away from her head.
She folded the comforter carefully before leaving for the kitchen and, as she ran her hands over her face to wipe away the rest of sleep her eyes met with Peter's back, as he was bent over the kitchen counter fumbling with the coffee-maker since he never learned how to use that correctly.
Hearing her footsteps he stopped doing what he was trying to do and turned to face her, his eyes meeting the soft blueness of her deep azure eyes. "Hey." He said softly, so uncertain of himself that Alice almost felt sorry for him –almost.
"Hey." She said back, not moving from the doorway, wondering whether she should come inside the kitchen or not.
"I-I was trying to make some coffee."
"I noticed." She said, her voice empty of any emotions, not that she tried to be cold, or sound cold, it just came out that way.
"Look, Alice..." He started and in a nervous move she knew very well, Peter ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you..."
"You really shouldn't. You were very unfair, Peter." She said, taking her time to face him, look him in the eye and cross her arms protectively over her chest.
"I was nervous, out of my mind. I didn't mean all those stuff."
"This is totally wrong. You can't just say hard things and say you're sorry later and expect me to forgive you. You hurt me, Peter. You hurt me pretty badly. Accusing me of not caring was the worst thing you could have ever done."
"Alice, I was angry. What did you want me to do? We're fighting so much lately that when we're arguing I just say anything that comes to my mind."
"You know, Peter..." Alice whispered, finally stepping inside the kitchen, coming fully into his view. She wondered if he had at least missed her during the night, if he had woken up and gone downstairs to check on her and make sure she was all right, if he had even cared to see if she had come home. "This is getting worse. I thought-I thought that if we were back home, back to where we belonged we would work things out... But it just seems impossible."
"What are you talking about?" Peter half asked; half chuckled, not really believing in her words –the meaning behind them as he stepped closer to her.
"I think we should give a break. We should..."
"No. I'm not giving up on you."
"Peter, look at us!" She exclaimed, waving her arms frenetically around, trying to show him the situation and put some sense into his head. "You said it yourself once. We should take different ways; take some time alone." And, with a deep, sad sight, she added: "It's not working."
And then he stood there, just looking at her, not saying a word as if he was trying to absorb al that she had said, to believe in her words. Even if he tried he wouldn't be able to argue with her, he had said these words to her once and didn't give her time to argue back, to say what she wanted. He had told her to leave and now she as doing the same, now that she finally saw the reality of their marriage –their failed marriage.
"You know, you're right. You're so absolutely right. We should have done it long before –before this reached the place it is now." He said and without waiting for an answer he walked past her and left the kitchen, leaving her alone with her own thoughts and memories.
T-T
Sitting there, outside in the porch, staring out at the beautiful scenery that lay before him, Terry remembered of the beauty of the woman he had fallen in love with. The old, expansive red wine he had bought a little while ago was open and half of it was already gone, befriending the never- away cigarette dangerously hanging in between Terry's lips.
Taking a sip of the wine, which tasted just as like Alice's lips –he could recall that with as much vivacity as if he had kissed her only minutes ago- he glanced out, staring off into space for a second as recalled every move from the day they kissed, then focusing his eyes on the scenery he took in a deep sigh, breathing in the fresh cold air. He couldn't remember where he had seen a sight as beautiful as the one in front of him, with the lake glowing weakly under the sunlight of November, which rarely happened –the sun shinning like it was today. The buildings off far away where he could only see the shapes and shadows of them, the trees and green grazes just ahead, the breeze blowing softly...
Definitely that was his favorite place of the house.
Taking another sip of the wine he finally decided it was enough and closed the bottle, putting the empty glass next to it then threw his cigarette away and with a heavy sigh he leaned back on the chair and rubbed his face with harsh fingers. Maybe the pain would take his mind away from certain thoughts.
God... He should be able to move on, he should be able to forget her and get on with his life –but why couldn't he? He had never felt that way about anyone before and now, the first time he did feel it he had to let it go. He didn't want to let go, to let her go, he wanted her with him even knowing she was someone else's –she was Peter's. He couldn't stop himself but think how Peter was a lucky son of a bitch.
And how much he wished he was in Peter's place...
"Are you deaf or something?"
Startled by the sudden voice coming from nowhere, Terry snapped his head up, looking at the direction of the noise and finding Dino with his arms crossed and a frown over his face.
"What?"
"Are you deaf? I knocked on the door about a thousand times. If I didn't know you were home at this hour I would think no one was here. I actually thought you went down for a walk, but with the situation you're in lately I doubted that was the reason no one was answering the door."
Terry rolled his eyes and sighed, getting up to be eye level with Dino. "I was just thinking." Then, avoiding his eyes, he busied himself cleaning the table, taking the wine bottle, glass and the box of the pizza he was eating earlier, with him to the kitchen.
"Obviously." Dino muttered as he walked closely behind him. "Terry..."
Swirling around to face Dino, Terry didn't even have time to put the things in his hands down. "Just don't start that again." He said with a hard face and serious expression that made Dino's own expression soften.
"Look, I'm just worried, OK? I'm leaving tomorrow and who will watch out for you? Yourself? I hardly believe my friend." He said with a smile to break the growing tension.
"I always did that." Terry said with his own smile and resumed putting the garbage away and the glass and bottle on the kitchen counter.
"Well, yeah but it was before."
Before –he didn't need to ask before what because even though Dino didn't say, Terry knew. Before Alice Terry knew exactly what to do, how to feel, how to react but after her he just seemed to not be in control anymore.
"Look, I'm fine, OK? No worries, really."
Staring for much longer than it was necessary at his friend's face, Dino smiled a bit, even though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, then nodded, trying hard to believe in Terry. "Ok." He nodded solemnly letting out a sigh of desistance. "I'm not going to talk about this anymore." And checking his watch he let out another sigh. "I have to go pack now. I hope to see you when we're visiting our money!" He exclaimed, punching Terry playfully on the arm.
"You can count on that, mate." Terry said; giving Dino the most sincere smile he could manage at the moment.
Dino nodded, and sensing they had nothing else to talk about he finally found his way to the front door. "See you then." He said, giving Terry a smile, hoping that he'd be able to get a grip on his feelings and finally take control over what he should be feeling, controlling the fact that he had fallen for the woman he shouldn't have.
Be able to finally move on.
T-T
End of chapter 2. This isn't what I wanted at first, which is funny because I don't have idea where I'm going with this fanfic. Either way I hope you did enjoy this chapter and that it's not so boring, worthy enough to make you leave me a review.
Thank you. =]