After a while of trying to sleep, Mimi finally gave up. Even Roger's rhythmic breathing couldn't lull her into a sleep of her own. Sliding out of his grip, she grabbed her boots and tip-toed out, going to her own loft downstairs. Sighing gently, she slipped her boots on and headed out on her fire escape.
She gave a small shiver, noticing the temperature had dropped considerably since the last time she was outside. How long was I trying to fall asleep for? She wondered. Looking up as she noticed a few snowflakes falling, she gave a light grin. "Snow…" She murmured happily.
As she leaned against the railing, she thought back to the night she had met Roger. The night she asked him to 'light her candle.' Shaking her head, the conversation she had with Mark only an hour or so ago, mixed with her memory. "I'm going to die before him…I just know I am." She said to herself.
"Who is she? She died…Her name was…." Mimi sang gently, remembering that night once again. "…Mimi.." She finished sadly. She felt an urge to just scream and sob until the emotions from earlier were out, but she didn't want to wake up the neighbor hood, or her sleeping boyfriend.
"Meems?" She heard a small, tired voice.
"What? Who….?"
"Meems look up." She heard the voice again.
Looking up, she saw Roger leaning over the railing of his fire escape, looking down at her, a bit of his longer dirty blonde hair falling in his face. "What are you doing down there? I felt you weren't with me anymore.." He muttered, giving a large yawn.
"I couldn't sleep. I remembered something I had to do down here." She muttered, giving him a small smile. "Sorry for worrying you."
"It's alright. Here, I'll come down to your place." He muttered.
"Uh, Rog?"
"Yah?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You may want to….put some pants on first." She said gently, flicking her eyes down to his crotch area, then back up to his face.
"Hu?" He muttered confused, looking down and noticing he was, in fact, clad only in a pair of boxers. He gave a small cough. "Umm..Yeah."
"You'd better get inside and in clothes before you catch a cold, or show everyone in Avenue A your boxers." She teased.
"I'll be down in a few." He muttered, heading back inside.
Going back into her own loft, Mimi looked over to the small table. A needle sat on the table, unused. Grabbing it, she went outside the small syringe gripped tightly in her hand. "My days of drugs are over…for good." She muttered, pulling her hand back and throwing the syringe as far as she could. Giving a happy smile, she knew it wasn't the smartest way of disposing of it, but it got it away the fastest. Reaching inside her shirt, she plucked a baggy of heroin out of her bra. Okay, so it wasn't the best place for it, but hey, Roger wouldn't have looked there for it. Holding it out in front of her, she examined it, proud that she hadn't used any of it. Pulling her arm back, similar to what she had done before, her movement was disturbed by Roger's voice.
"Mimi? What are you doing?" He asked a bit angrily, crossing the loft quickly, the small bondage belts on his leather jacket giving a small angry click with his movement.
"Roger. I swear it's not what it looks like." She responded quickly.
"What is it then?"
"I'm getting rid of it. For good. I'm doing it for me, for you…..for us." She muttered truthfully. Turning around, she prepared to throw it once more.
"Wait." Roger called.
"What Roger?"
Before she could turn around, she felt his taller form close behind her. A bigger hand covered hers. "Let's do it together." He whispered into her ear. "It'll be our new beginning. We'll get through this whole thing together. I'll be here for you the whole time."
Nodding gently, she felt Roger pull her hand back, and together they disposed of the drugs.
"I'm proud of you." He muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on the top of her head.
"So am I. And hey…now some junkie who could care less will get some free smack." She joked.
"Yeah." He agreed. "What made you do it?"
"Hu?...Well…I guess I just…figured it was time. I don't want to fight about it anymore. I don't want to see the disappointed look you give me every time I do it. You never get mad…it's always this sad look. I want a chance to start fresh. I want everyone to be proud of me for cleaning myself up. And living without drugs."
"I'm so proud Meems. Come on…Let's go back inside. You're so cold." He murmured gently, a bit of worry filling the song writers voice. "I don't want you to get sick."
"I don't want you sick either." She murmured. "Rog..You know…I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." She said gently.
"That's why you won't lose me. I'm not going anywhere." He assured her, pulling her down on her small bed. "Go to sleep. We'll go do something to celebrate your 'giving up smack' tomorrow. And don't worry. The withdraws can be a bitch, but we'll get through them together."
Nodding into his chest as she curled up close to him, she was finally able to relax and fall asleep as he sang her song.
"I love you…you can see it in my eyes…." He finished, smiling down on her. Pulling a blanket over them, he let himself fall asleep, cradling the younger woman close.