Part 4: Enjoying some cereal.

I pour him a cup of coffee in one of the mugs that I have in my office for guests. "What do you take in your coffee?" I set it on the edge of my desk so I can get to the fridge

"Just a little whole milk, if you have it." I

I open the little black fridge where the mugs are sitting on, and pull out a half gallon of whole milk. I lift my eyebrows a little, and point to the label, with mock questioning. I open it and sniffing it, pretending to faint from the smell.

He laughs. I think it is nice, I can amuse him to as well as gain sympathy. It makes me give him a soft smile.

"Pacey must have bought this." I joke.

"You should throw it out then; it must be a year old." He has taken to sit on the green couch at the front of my office, which I am actually glad he chose to sit there, because the chairs in front of my desk are uncomfortable. I have been meaning to upgrade them, as they are a throwback from when my dad was sheriff. But I haven't had time yet, I have been trying to upgrade other parts of the station, since I feel it is better that everyone is comfortable before my guests and me are. After everything else gets done, I am going to revamp the whole office though.

I chuckle at this. "He really never did that did he?"

"You probably lived with him longer, you should know." He gives me a soft smirk.

I nod, and turn to pull a little of the milk into his coffee. "I just bought the milk yesterday." I hand him the coffee.

He takes a sip, and sets it on the coffee table in front of him. "What kind of coffee is this?"

"A mix of Columbian and Kenyan." I go to the small filing cabinet near the fridge, and pull out a super sugary box of cereal, and a more mature cereal. "I forgot to get bowls, so, we'll have to eat out of mugs. Which kind do you want?"

"You really don't eat that wheat stuff do you?"

"Occasionally." I put it back in the cabinet; I much prefer the sugary cereal anyway.

"Good choice." He takes another sip of his coffee. He gives me another smile.

I flip over two of the mugs on top of the fridge, and bring them over to the coffee table, setting them down. I grab the milk and cereal and set it down on the table. I then go to the file cabinet, and pull out a bag of plastic spoons, pulling out two, and then snagging my coffee from atop the desk, and walk towards him. I set the spoons and coffee down, and sit tentatively on the end of the couch. Before I can say anything, he is pouring some cereal and milk into one of the mugs. He hands me the mug, and then continues to make his own. I pick up one of the spoons, and take a bite watching him out of the corner of my eye. He is putting the lid back on the milk. He catches my eye, and gives me a soft smile. I remember why he is here, and it makes me a little sad. I am not sure what to say to him.

"I tried to commit suicide more than once. So, I know what it is like to have suicidal tendencies."

He catches me off guard, mid-bite, and I stare at him. It is weird it seems almost as if he has some connection to my inner psyche. I finish the bite. "I've never tried, but I have thought about it. I don't understand though, I thought the beautiful people won't suppose to have problems like that."

"But you yourself can be classified as a beautiful person, but you have problems like that." He takes a sip of coffee, and moves slightly towards me on the couch.

"Maybe...I don't know...I not suicidal most of the time, I just don't want to go on." I look at my coffee.

"Like you don't want to be judged anymore, and you feel guilty for how you want to live your life."

I turn in his direction again, studying his face. His soft blue eyes, which are filled with concern, and understanding, his chiseled chin, his soap opera like features, and it makes me wonder why I didn't see the connection before.