The dodgy episode had arrived between Curt and Rhea, but managed to ease itself out in time. Accompanying the healing of Curt's bodily wound was the internal repair of frayed wires that had started to crawl to reach Rhea, but didn't quite make it. Soon after, they were made whole, with each of the fixed appendages cautiously wrapping around her. The once dwindling currents in them now ran with sparking electricity. Every spark was a virtue: empathy, kindness, understanding. Maybe love was looming ahead. They were all there to cradle her in, but never to ensnare her.

And so, time proved to be the best mode of sobering up the drunken condition of Curt and Rhea's relationship. Early on, while the cut on his forehead was still fresh, Curt would be helping Rhea because of a feeling of responsibility.

A conversation was likely to end like this:

"You do care about me." Rhea would state in girlish glee.

"I pity you." Curt would testify numbly, like it was a reminder.

Both of them would stay in the flat, but wouldn't communicate unless it was absolutely necessary. They would sit apart and sleep apart. When one of them went out, the other would feel afraid. Each would be secretly scared that the other wouldn't return. Of course, the anxiety and apprehension were only false alarms. In the end, it became like a petty contest, of who had the thickness of skin to better stand the other one. There was nothing concrete to keep them as one, and yet, they stayed.

Sometimes they would eat together—that is—around the same table. They wouldn't venture on past that. Often, Rhea would eat by herself at the table, while Curt drank something as he sat on the couch in front of the television. He was drinking all the time, whatever it was. That was his staple sustenance. Rhea rarely ever saw him eat, and almost never saw him dine on a "real" meal. She cooked, always for both of them, hoping that Curt would in the very least peek at what she labored on. Occasionally, he would check to see what she cooked, but that was all he did. Everyday, Rhea would toss lots of leftovers in the garbage, enough to make her sick. One day she got tired of this.

During dinnertime, one night, Rhea spotted Curt sitting by the table and leafing through a book. A bottle of beer sat in front of him, holding down some pages. Silently, she carried plates of food in from the kitchen and placed them on the table. Curt looked up at her questioningly, and as he did this, she took the novel and the drink away. She stored them atop the coffee table, a good expanse from him. In the space made empty, she positioned a full plate, a lock of her hair brushing Curt's arm as she lowered her head. Curt stared at the plate, stared at Rhea again, and commenced on picking at the food, exhaling heavily. Rhea sat at her end of the table and watched Curt, making sure to smile every time he glanced up. I'm a step closer, she thought.

At over two weeks in, the slight bitterness had worn off. There were no remnants left. The awkwardness was also gone.

Curt slowly developed an appetite after tasting the meal that was, in a sense, forced on him. He ate at the table with Rhea for nearly all his meals and even helped her to set up. Now and again, they were able to start little chats, though tentative and random. They were in touch, nevertheless. It was no longer an obligation for Curt to assist Rhea. By this stage, he did it to please her.

An exchange was more likely to come across this way:

"Thanks." Rhea would say, in serious gratitude.

Curt wouldn't say a thing, but would bestow a quiet smile, which Rhea perceived as his most sincere response.

(---------------)

The supposed "fling" was lasting longer than initially expected and nearing a month. Curt planned to celebrate this, dissimilar to his former detached attachments. Those barely deserved an afterthought. With Rhea, he was able to reach a happy-medium. He found something secure to grasp, but he wasn't forever bound. Plenty of freedom roamed their bond, and freedom gave way to unrestricted love.

This new-found affection was, however, still subject to questions. Curt could just picture people fussing about and falling all over themselves because of it. He wasn't hugely famous anymore, but he continued to be a press favourite. Various newspapers and tabloids would all print their share of headlines bearing his name. They wouldn't be able to resist. Gosh, Curt Wild is actually in a relationship, the first one since his beloved Brian Slade. And another shocker: the lover is a girl, one that he's old enough to father. Just how would they react if they found out that she was a prostitute too? He didn't give a damn about that now, he never did. He knew what possibilities there were, going in.

One day, Curt and Rhea, in fact, did fall prey to questioning. Before attending a show, the couple stopped by an old-fashioned bookshop. Who would be there to encounter them, but Mandy. She sighted them first, but acted like she didn't. Curt entered, followed by Rhea. A little bell hung over the wooden door rang twice to signal their arrival.

Curt made his way straight to the counter, anxious to pick up a book he ordered for Rhea. He noted a blonde mass of hair that seemed to float above the owner's head as he headed down the aisles, but he made nothing of it. Mandy kept her back turned away and her nose in a book, playing a convincing role of pretending to read.

Rhea strolled amid the many rows of antique novels and volumes of encyclopedias, picking up and inspecting a few whose titles caught her fancy. She was returning one when her eyes happened to squarely clash with Mandy's. Her mouth was forming a smile, but it was stunted once she saw the look that Mandy attacked her with.

Mandy raised a snaking eyebrow, and then narrowed her eyes intensely. Her crimson lips pursed spitefully in disgust and detestation. Never a hurtful person, Rhea didn't throw a contemptuous stare in defense, but looked away. She was relieved to see Curt returning with a parcel in hand. He handed her the package, still unaware of Mandy's presence. Watching Rhea contentedly, he saw her unwrap the book with bliss, which he had gotten specially re-bound to include an inserted dedication. She ogled with awe at the wonderfully textured leather and the silver inscriptions.

Feeling another disdainful look, Rhea looked up from the custom-aged dedication page. Curt followed the path of her vision and was surprised to see Mandy. He caught her still locked in a hateful gaze toward Rhea.

"Mandy?"

"Hello, Curt." she greeted him, pretentiously amicable.

She ran into him more than usual, it seemed to Curt; more than he liked. He had forgotten how many times he wished it was Brian that he saw or ran into instead, at every instance that he saw Mandy. He didn't even care if Brian noticed that he was there or not. He just wanted to see him so badly, a single glimpse would suffice.

Lost in yearning, Curt didn't realize that Mandy had moseyed her way into the aisle that he and Rhea stood in.

"Who's the girl, Curt?" she asked, catching him unready. She behaved as if she and Curt were alone, and Rhea was just a fixture in the place.

"Oh. Ah…this is Rhea." Curt told Mandy, holding out his hand to draw his girlfriend closer to him, like he wanted protection.

Mandy didn't shake hands with Rhea to make her acquaintance, or even smile.

"Oh." she said, grim-faced. She beckoned to Curt. "Come here."

The two separated themselves from Rhea, with Mandy leading the way.

"What are you doing?" Mandy demanded, still gripping Curt's arm.

Curt jerked Mandy's hand from his forearm.

"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" she persisted.

"I'm sure I do." Curt said firmly. "And I don't need—"

"She's young, Curt." Mandy interrupted. "She's…she can leave you anytime, and then where will you be? Do you really even know her? You don't even know her, do you?"

"You don't either!" Curt exclaimed, not in anger, but in an attempt to make Mandy understand. He never saw her as an enemy. "Please, Mandy. Don't do this. I know you're only looking out for me, but let me do this on my own. Let us be."

"Fine." Mandy practically spat. "It's obvious that you don't care if she leaves you. I mean, it's what you did to Brian, right?"

She launched a last scalding glare at Curt and paced heftily out of the bookstore. Curt footed his way back to Rhea lethargically, worried that she overheard everything he and Mandy argued. His discomfort was lightly ebbed as he found her sitting on plastic crates and entranced by the poetry book.

"Come on." he blew into her ear, kneeling to reach it. He placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed her wan cheek. "We're gonna be late."