GOOD TO YOU
•xoxoxo•
Disclaimer: Resident Evil CAPCOM | Plot © whitemaigexxvii | Song © 투에니원
Summary: [AU] Jessica Sherawat: the girlfriend. Jill Valentine: the best friend. The lines were set but it was still breached and pain is just around the corner. RATED M. Valenfield / Sherafield
•xoxoxo•
Author's Note: Yes, I'm alive, people! And I'm really sorry for the long delay! If you wanna hear what I have to say, it's at the bottom. Don't kill me, please! I think I have a valid reason for being away so please spare me! T_T Anyway, I hope I did an okay job here. My brain is literally empty right now and this has been rewritten for too many times, I didn't dare count. Okay, on with the chapter!
-Oh, by the way! To OCIMUM, I've been replying to your PMs, but it seems like you're not getting them. I wonder why, though. How about you guys? I've been replying to the reviews I have so far. Are y'all receiving them?
P.S.: Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I would normally give y'all a hug but we're miles away—which is a big bummer—so I'll give you virtual hugs instead! XD Also, thanks to those who faved and alerted this story. I hope this chapter won't disappoint! *kisses*
•xoxoxo•
CHAPTER IV
How can I smile brightly?
If you will look closely, I am sad
I know I've been there before
•xoxoxo•
SHE WAS already at her wit's end.
For the past four days, her mood had been shifting between two emotions she had not fully acquainted herself with. Anxiety and Anger were two emotions Claire Redfield had always saw herself shying away from as much as she could but a certain someone just seems to love seeing her in such predicament, even pushing her to the edge where she only had those two annoying emotions to choose from. And as she stared at her brother's deeply scowling face while reading a week old newspaper across from her, ignoring anything and anyone within the vicinity for only God knows why, made her want to either repeatedly pound her head against their coffee table out of sheer frustration or just have her hands wrapped around his neck so he'd die and she wouldn't worry about him so much. The only thing keeping her from succumbing into such violence was the day's special occasion.
However, even that small anchor she held onto for her sanity's sake is callously being tested.
It was Christmas Eve!
Claire had already lost count on how many times she had convinced herself what the day was but the word 'absurd' kept raking her head like an immortal cockroach not knowing when to die. It was downright infuriating. She blames her brother's menacing scowl and sour mood for making her favorite holiday ridiculously out of place. She was seriously debating whether she'd be better off spending the holidays back at her dorm while looking at dull, white walls instead of absorbing the cold treatment her brother had been deliberately giving all of them for whatever reason since she came home.
She dejectedly sighed. It was a tradition for all of them to spend the Christmas holidays together like they always have from the very beginning but as her blue eyes scanned the expanse of their living room—highly decorated to signify what was supposed to be a joyous occasion but the gloomy vibes filling the air made her feel a lot like somebody had just died—she couldn't help asking herself if being there was even worth it.
Assorted Christmas decorations adorning different places inside the spacious grandeur of their living room were greatly overpowered by that dark atmosphere her brother was emitting, unconscious or not. Beautiful, blinking lights, majestically placed in perfect organization inside the house, couldn't brighten his edgy mood. 'I'm fucking mad' was written all over his face and it makes Christmas Eve a literal joke.
Yep, Chris Redfield has definitely fucked her Christmas up for her.
Read the fucking mood, damn it! Claire mentally fumed as a glare slowly marred her face. She was pissed, alright.
However, she couldn't stay mad at him for another minute even if she wanted to. She can see right through her brother's dark exterior. She could see the subtle nervousness in his body language, the dull, distant look in his hazel eyes, and his unnerving silence. There was definitely something bothering him and he couldn't find it in himself to tell her. Usually, when he's mad about something he'd start groaning every ten seconds and when asked he'll vent on the top of his lungs. That isn't the case now, though. Worry finally settled in as she opened her mouth to ask what's been bothering her but caught herself; fearing a repeat of what happened two days prior.
"It's none of your business."
She shivered just by recalling how cold those words had hit her and how hurt it left her. Claire couldn't even begin to fathom just what had rattled her brother so much to be so… detached. It scared the living daylights out of her and it seems that she's not the only one to be the receiving end of his fury. Their parents, especially their mother, had tried to coax any kind of information from him since he spent the week away from his apartment for the upcoming holiday but she was met with the same treatment.
But still, Claire hadn't given up on making him feel that she's always there if ever he needed someone who'll listen. However, it seems like her brother lived up to his name of being downright stubborn that it annoyed her. He blatantly refused to budge and nothing she said or do could penetrate the imposing wall he had built around himself; her reassuring words falling to deaf ears, her offered comfort brushed away with the wind. And it worried her all the more. She couldn't help but wish that he'd be his usual self when angry so she'll know how to deal with him.
Claire thought that Chris needed the time to sort whatever it is he had on his mind by himself but instead of improvement; she saw regression as the days further dragged on.
Seriously, she needed to do something about him or his behavior will scar her for life.
"How long are you going to stare like an idiot before you're satisfied?"
She jolted at the sound of his voice; not quite believing that he was initiating a conversation. She released a sigh of relief, not minding his rude statement even for a moment. She's just glad that he's still the brother she left before going to college even with something crushing down on him.
She chose to humor him and glared. "Maybe when you start telling me what the hell your problem is." She watched as he pried his attention from the newspaper and regarded her with an amused expression on his face. In her head, she was already hoping for the best; that he'd finally spill the beans after days of bottling it all as if he was too good in handling emotions in the first place.
But, no sooner had her hope-rocket launched, it plummeted like a shooting star, straight into the depths of oblivion the moment he shrugged and turned his attention back on that goddamned newspaper. Maybe she was too keen in hoping he'd open up to her when she knew too darn well that he'd rather crawl towards his best friend for advice than ask her about his problems.
A choked gasp escaped her lips.
Right. Why hasn't she thought about it before? Of course it had to be Jill! She wanted to laugh and pity herself at the same time. Chris will never be this moody for too long if he had Jill walking him through his problems. Don't get her wrong, her brother is capable of handling his own problems but with an added dose of violence, excessive mood swings, and with something broken lying on the floor. The only way he could get through a certain problem without throwing a hissy fit was if Jill's rationality had somewhat been involved. So, if he's feeling so lost and unable to even act violently in his problem, then his problem would only be directed to his best friend. Because Claire knew all too well how much Chris loves a certain Jill Valentine; he'd never, ever hurt her. He could get reckless, yes, but Chris would never act violently when Jill is his problem.
How come she skipped that very important information?
Well, if Chris chose to play stubborn, Claire would play the game with him. After all, she's not a Redfield for nothing. And she's much more stubborn than her brother. The push is certainly getting her nowhere, so it's time for a shove.
"Are you pissed because of Jill?" She asked, not bothering to sugarcoat her question. If she wanted a straight answer, she'll have to give a straight question first, right?
And just as expected, Chris peeled his eyes away from that boring newspaper and clashed with hers. She could see from her peripheral vision how he's trying so hard not to rip the papers in his hand from restrained rage but utterly failing.
"What?" He hissed, glaring daggers at her but she shrugged the underlying threat on his features with her determined stare.
Her assumptions were given a backbone by how his muscles had tensed considerably, his jaw clenched so hard she feared it would break. Obviously, Claire had hit a nerve for he was visibly seething, willing whatever self-control he has left in his body from lunging at her; probably reminding himself that the woman in front of him was in fact his sister.
"If this has something to do with Jill, you can tell me, Chris!" She stressed, shoving the throw pillow she had on her lap aside just to prove her point that her offer of comfort was in fact genuine.
And just like the past few days since her return, Chris shrugged her offer off with a disgusted snort. "You'll never understand." He stated, aloof, and pushed himself off the couch; signaling that the conversation ends there and she shouldn't be stupid enough to cross the line he had drawn between them.
Claire scowled and pushed herself to her feet as well, blocking Chris' path on his way to his bedroom upstairs. He glared at her and she glared back; rivaling the intensity of his wrath with her own. No matter how worried she was for his well-being, she just couldn't stand being coldly ignored by her own flesh and blood. Whatever it is she was doing, it was all for him. She'll even face his fury if she had to just so he could snap back to his senses and be the brother she adored and missed so much.
"How will I even try to understand if you won't let me? Come on, Chris. I'm so tired of seeing you like this." She said, more like begged, and even dared to put a hand on his shoulder. She gave him a look of worry while he gazed down at her. "What happened?" She asked, voice imploring.
There was a small pause, Chris briefly contemplating judging with the way he held her beseeching gaze. A few more seconds ticked by and Claire had never felt so thankful when Chris' angry expression softened and the rigid muscle under her careful touch relaxed; relief instantly seizing her. But before her heart could fully grasp the brewing hope that he might finally come clean to her, Claire just had to stop herself. His haunted expression told her that much. He looked at her like he couldn't find himself, couldn't find his confidence, like he had suddenly lost faith in himself. It was a look in which she had never—not even in her wildest dreams—would dream to see on her brother's face and it scared her… a lot.
Then it dawned to her that maybe she really wouldn't understand.
Claire crushed the idea before the doubt could swallow her completely. Doubting will get her nowhere and whatever it was that happened between her brother and Jill, it was at that precise moment where Chris needed her support the most. She can't let doubt take over her. Moreover, she had already pushed through the boundaries so she had no right, whatsoever, to hesitate.
Her resolve, however, crumbled when Chris shook his head. "I don't know, Claire. I just… I can't say right now." He simply muttered as he released a solemn sigh before giving her a weak, apologetic smile. He raised a hand to cover hers. Looking away, Chris pulled her hand away; a sign that the conversation ends there.
And there it is… the Doomsday statement.
"I'm sorry," She heard him say before he brushed passed her.
Claire couldn't move, couldn't turn back and demand answers, and couldn't yell at him for trying desperately to keep his pride when they both know he could barely handle the situation. She remained rooted on her spot, mulling over her brother's behavior. And the realization finally dawned upon her. Chris couldn't tell her because she can't understand; it was him who couldn't understand.
That simple fact mortified her.
Afraid that her knees would give out on her, she sought refuge on the couch while trying to make sense of what little she had on her plate. She ran a shaky hand through her bangs and sighed. What is she going to do now? Will she just let him walk away like that when she knows she can somewhat help him?
She wanted to laugh at that. Of course, she can't help him. Not now when she's lost, herself.
"So, it's Jill, huh?"
Claire snapped her head back and saw her mother standing on the second step of the stairs as she regarded her with a solemn look. Claire could only nod in response while her mother let out a tired sigh.
Catharine Redfield was usually a spirited person, an epitome of happiness in which only a few things could bring her down her cloud. Catharine would always look at the brighter side of things and her beautiful smile always makes Claire feel at ease no matter how dire the situation might be.
Yet seeing her mother's shoulder slouched and her face sporting a forlorn expression made Claire realize how hopeless their attempt of reaching out to Chris was. If her mother, who always saw a way to smile, happens to be the woman who she was now, then maybe the fight really was futile.
Catharine helped herself and sat down beside her. "I figured." She started while taking Claire's hand into hers and caressing it with a gentleness that instantly made her feel a little better.
"I wish we could do something, Mom." Claire said and looked into the loving eyes of her mother. She felt Catharine give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
The Redfield matriarch weakly smiled as she softly brushed stray burgundy locks off the youngest Redfield's face. "Oh, Claire, I know how you feel. As a mother, it hurts me to see my babies hurt like this. But what can we do? Your brother is much more stubborn than your father." She joked, a light chuckle escaping her lips but it was short-lived when her expression changed into grief once more.
There was a pause until Catharine cleared her throat. "I know we must do something, anything, but we are not equipped for that right now. All we could do now is hope that Jill would do something. Times like these, she's the only one capable of pacifying that brother of yours."
Claire could only agree with her mother. She groaned, frustrated. "Which now begs the question, how? Man, what's wrong with them?" Claire whined, crossing her arms with an annoyed huff.
Catharine chuckled; glad that at the very least the heavy atmosphere surrounding them was slowly melting. "No, the best question here is how am I supposed to bring them both together if this keeps up?"
The red-head shot her mother an incredulous look in which the older woman just raised an immaculately plucked eyebrow. She was shocked, to say the least. Of course, it was never a secret between the both of them how much the older woman adores Jill Valentine to a point where Catharine vehemently insisted that Chris should never upset his future wife. Claire thought it was undeniably cute how Catharine believes Chris would end up with Jill because she did too, once upon a time. But things are different now. They've all changed one point in their lives. As they grew older, their perspective changes, the person they once were slowly molded into something else as they meet new faces, new attitudes, and new environments along the way. Her mother just needs to understand that her brother will never stay in one place. He's adventurous, thrill-seeking, and very spontaneous and as his journey continues, he'll continue looking for other things.
That's why she begrudgingly gave up hoping that Chris will end up with Jill at some point and Catharine needs to move on, too.
But how is she going to tell that to her stubborn mother, really?
"Mom, you do know he's with Jessica, right?" Claire took it upon herself to remind her mother and she was not all that shocked to see the smile wiped clean from her mother's face, an annoyed scowl printed in its place.
"Oh, yes. Jessica,"Catharine spat like it was venom and snorts.
Claire had this suspicion that her mother forgot about long-haired brunette again. She sighed. Of course Catharine would want to forget about her. Jessica was the reason her mother had Chris almost disowned.
To say that Catharine greatly disapproves her brother's relationship with the woman would be an understatement. She downright detests it. It's because it was the sole reason why her best friend's daughter and her son ship couldn't sail. Catharine has always thought that Jessica's existence in Chris' life ruined what she had been hoping for to happen in years. That's why she just couldn't accept the woman.
And Claire understands it. Well, a bit.
"Claire—honey—do mommy a favor and don't bring her up. She's bad for my fragile health."
Claire rolled her eyes. "But, Mom, you know we'll have to talk about her. She's Chris' girlfriend, for crying out loud!" Claire shrieked and flailed her arms as if to prove her point.
Catharine gave her a stern look. "He'll get over her, Claire. Your brother just needs to know who's good for him. And that's clearly not Jessica. We both know who it is." She pointed out before abruptly standing up and started to make her way to the kitchen, perhaps thinking that it was time to finally prepare something for their lunch and dinner.
After all, the Valentines are spending Christmas Eve with them.
Claire huffed and followed her mother to the kitchen.
She watched as Catharine started pulling out different utensils to make what she suspects would be pudding. Her Auntie Julie loves them, after all. Having nothing to do, Claire opted to help her mother with preparing the dessert.
There was a long and peaceful silence surrounding the both of them as they continued to work. Claire made use of that time to analyze what her mother had said.
It's true, Claire knew the person who's best for her ass of a brother. Just comparing Jessica to Jill would draw a clear line on who is best. Yes, Jessica might be beautiful, sophisticated, and downright hot but Jill's simplistic elegance brought her a step ahead. Jill doesn't need to do anything to be beautiful, doesn't need make up to look stunning, and doesn't need to try hard to dress up just to look regal. She's all those without putting much of an effort.
Claire choked down a scoff before it could take form as a sound.
Okay, she admits that she's being biased in that thought but she can't help it. Maybe she shouldn't compare the two based on their physical appearance because, honestly, they have their own elegance in different categories.
Claire thought that maybe the best way to compare them was through Chris so she did just that. Take how he handles things when he's in a fight with either of them for a good example.
They had never seen Chris so livid even when he falls into an argument with his girlfriend. Angry, yes but he's never livid. Usually when they break into a war, Chris would just be indifferent about it and would know what to do to appease Jessica without a single thought. It's not about them being so intimately connected to each other, oh no. Chris just knows how to play his cards when it comes to her. It's an automatic reaction he grew to adapt.
With Jill, on the other hand, he's a fucking mess; a thought given proof with their encounter earlier. His thoughts are all over the place, his mood sour, and he becomes an extremely annoying potty mouth. It's as if Chris learned nothing on how to appease her whenever she's upset with him, in all those years they've had together. And somehow knowing this, Claire can fully see why Catharine kept on insisting that there's hope for them ending up together. They need one another. Only Jill could manage to tame her brother's wrath; bring logic into his rash nature. And only Chris could manage to drag her out of her comfort zone; bring a little thrill in her overly controlled life.
They complement each other, aware or not.
But even with those things considered, it still does not change the fact that her brother has plans of his own, in which she finally remembered. At first she thought that it wasn't much to think about; that maybe her brother just said those things—a few months prior—just to poke fun at her. And with the way things are right now, it gives her this sense of dread that Chris is moving one step closer to what he had proposed. After all, Chris is prone to making mistakes when he's mad about something. She blames his somewhat recklessness.
And then, it clicked into place. Instantly, her dread intensified as a look of terror settled into her face. They didn't know…
Catharine didn't know.
Dropping everything, her blue eyes instantly snapped to her mother, who was completely oblivious to her catastrophic realization as she set the already done pudding on the counter next to her to cool.
Claire debated if she's going to tell or not but she thought that she could at least break it a little to her mother. Who knows how her mother would react if her dread was indeed true. There would be bloodshed and she wants to avoid that.
"Uh," She crushed her anxiety and called for her mother who eyed her with little interest. Claire thickly swallowed. How would she break it without her mother breaking something within reach after?
Catharine raised a brow at her after a long, awkward silence on her part. "Honey, is something wrong? Don't tell me you're following in your brother's footsteps and act all weird on me."
Claire appreciates how her mother attempted to make her feel a tad at ease by her lighthearted remark. Still, her nerves were on fire. "Chris somehow didn't tell you anything about Jessica?"
Catharine scowled. "Not this again, Claire. Jessica this! Jessica that! It's getting irritating."
"But, Mom! Listen, I'm not so sure if what I'm about to tell you is true but could you promise me you'll not freak out or—
"When you say that, I think I'll freak out anyway." Catharine interjected, giving her a look. "Okay, young lady, spill it!"
No turning back now.
With the air growing thick around them, dread laced with her every word. "I think Chris said something about marrying Jessica."
A loud crash echoed inside the kitchen, sending her heart to her throat. Her blue eyes watched as her mother stood there, completely dumb-founded, mouth agape, and disbelief blotted in bold letters on her face.
Looking at her stunned-to-silence mother, Claire just couldn't feel sorry about the delicious puddings now rolling on their marbled floor.
•xoxoxo•
I still hate you
You who left me
My cold heart is still
Missing you…
•xoxoxo•
THREE WEEKS.
It's been three long weeks since he walked out from that door out of sheer impulse and as he stared longingly at the picture of her on his desk, he still couldn't believe he was able to last long knowing that they were not in good terms. His ego, he knew, was the prime reason why he still hadn't reached for his keys and drove towards her home to apologize. The longest fight they had lasted a week—with her coming to him first—so imagine his surprise when she had yet to do what she always do under such circumstance. Three weeks had been ground-breaking and the further the days drag on, the more hot-tempered he became.
It was also not doing him any good. His conversation—if he could even call it that way—with Claire earlier made it crystal clear. He's completely aware that his behavior's been causing his sister too much worry to last them both until New Year. But what can he do, really?
Just thinking about Jill makes it really tough for him to clear his head. The more he tries, the more puzzled he became. And the more he wonders, the more his mood drops; contaminating even what is supposed to be a very festive affair. Heck, he tried to cheer himself up a lot of times already. He tried ignoring the problem, finding himself a diversion in the means of games, talking to other friends, and damn! He was even desperate enough to find comfort from Jessica.
But none could really pull him out of the dump he found himself in. In fact, he felt like it made matters worse. It only made him want to see her more.
What the hell was her problem, anyway? The way she acted that day threw him off guard and even if he never really wanted the words to come out like the way it did, it just did. He wanted to understand her, to be with her when it's her time to need somebody. He wanted to be the one who'd comfort her, just like those countless of times she did for him. For years, he wanted to prove himself to her, wanted to prove that he's worthy of being called as her best friend. Even just for once.
And he was given that one, rare opportunity.
However, it went up in flames before it could ever be fulfilled and it seemed his efforts of reaching out only exacerbated the situation.
The way she acted around him that day—like she didn't want him anywhere near her—was a solid proof to that. It greatly struck a bad nerve inside him and, right then and there, he didn't know where the hell he stood anymore. He couldn't help but entertain the idea that it must really be his fault because in all honesty, he does not have the heart to blame Jill. Heck, he'd never blame Jill for anything! It's just fucking frustrating how he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what he did wrong to make her react that way. He's been mulling over that piece of possibility for three weeks now and, still, he'd meet a dead end.
Chris tightly clenched his fist and released a bitter chuckle. It's been three weeks yet the ache in his heart remained annoyingly intact; like he received the blow just a few moments ago.
Yes, what happened hurt him so much; he just opted the easiest way out. And that was to walk out of that door.
Because he couldn't stay in a place where he strongly feels he was not needed.
And just like that, a strong invisible wall erected between them that he can't seem to get through no matter how much he tried.
Chris Redfield prided himself for being strong and independent but all of those would've never been possible if it weren't for Jill's guiding hands. And he is—for the first time in a long while— scared to lose her because of a thing he felt he did but had no recollection or knowledge about.
He mentally cursed. I don't even want to think about that.
Chris woefully sighed and leaned back against his chair; his mind drifting back to the events from earlier. Now that he's in the privacy of his room, was he able to reflect about how he acted towards Claire, and even towards his parents. It was not in his slightest intention to make her feel such strong emotions. Yet he managed to elicit it from her, anyway. And he feels guilty, somehow. He was supposed to be the one doing all the worrying for her but the other way around is such a fucking bitch.
"You can tell me, Chris!"
But that's really his problem. He knows he can tell her but he couldn't—for the life of him—put his thoughts and feelings into words and he, himself, couldn't understand what's happening so how could he even begin to tell her? Yes, he knows that he's somewhat involved. However, what lay beneath is the mystery that kept eluding him and he's afraid he wouldn't have the chance to know. His conflict with Jill isn't going to help the situation, either. As long as he kept sitting around and doing nothing to make things right between them, he'll never know. He can't help but feel more and more depressed with every single minute she's away; not knowing where she is, what she's doing, who she's with, and if she's happy. The more he thinks about it makes him feel worse than before. It also didn't help that he had no idea in how to face her later on. That is if his Christmas Eve wouldn't be a repeat of Thanksgiving.
God, Chris was no fool. It wouldn't take a genius to know who she was avoiding.
Chris groaned and pried his eyes away from her picture; hating how her beautiful smile is affecting his mood. He wanted to be angry but the longer he stared at her, the faster he realizes he just doesn't have it in him to be angry at all. And the more he looked at her bright blue eyes, the more he misses her.
The silence of the room was interrupted by the loud ringing of his phone. He pushed himself away from his desk and searched for the source, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins; his thoughts filled with the only person he's been yearning to be with so much. Finally, she's going to apologize and they'd be okay again! Relief and happiness washed through him as he found his phone in his jean's pocket and quickly fished for it, only to feel utterly disappointed and equally pissed off as soon as he discovered who was calling.
Of course, she's not going to call you. What were you thinking? That she'd come to you like she used to?
"Fuck this," he cursed under his breath and threw the phone as far away from him as possible and claimed his seat from earlier. He feels so angry at himself for ever thinking she'll be the one cave. A large part of him kept telling him that if she ever did have the plan, she would've done so rather than wait for three fucking weeks. Also, there's something about the situation that made his mind believe that they were not going to be fine as soon as what he kept hoping for.
Is she really slipping away from him?
His eyes drifted once more to the picture he kept of her as his mind replayed the events two days prior.
…
"Why is this place so fucking peaceful?" Chris groaned in frustration as he shoved his freshly printed report inside a manila folder and pinched the bridge of his nose. His shift had been unfortunately uneventful; the kind of day he wished he never had especially when he had loads in his mind. The silence inside their office adding to his agitation, grating on his nerves and pushing him closer to insanity, but he wasn't about to initiate a conversation with his teammates anytime soon. He was so not in the mood and he made sure it projected clearly on his scowling face.
He needed to be somewhere else, somewhere to distract himself from his frustrated mood. Surely, it was one of those days where he strongly wondered why he ever listened to Jill in quitting the nicotine addiction. The promise he made caused guilt to swallow him whole; making him lose the will to even attempt, let alone get anywhere near a cigar.
He cursed.
It has always been about her lately.
"What's with the long face, Redfield? Is this about Jessica?"
He looked at the owner of the voice with an indifferent face. Yes, Jessica. Now that the name was brought up, he couldn't help but groan once more. There's another issue he needed to take care of.
Jessica. He's still trying to figure out how things led him to say something so life changing. It was not a part of his plan, not even a speck of thought in his wildest nightmare. Sure he once loved Jessica, and yes he once enjoyed her company to a point where he thought there'd be no other woman like her, but it had never crossed his love-struck mind to marry her, let alone build a family with her.
Who in their right mind would like to marry a cheating woman, anyway? Obviously, a guy named Chris Redfield. God, he was not thinking straight that night. He was angry, hurt, and his manly ego was wounded. If he was his rational self, he would never ever touch Jessica again. However, the fight with Jill left him emotionally drained and he needed the comfort, which was a huge mistake on his part. Just the thought of it made bile rise to his throat. After everything he did for her, she still had the audacity to make him look more of a fool. He bets Jill would laugh at him once she finds out about Jessica's unfaithfulness.
Women, how they complicate a man's life is shocking.
He chose to keep his mouth shut and averted his attention on the mountain of paper works beside his computer to review a few cases from last month but was rudely interrupted when his co-worker, Forest Speyer, blocked his view with gloved hands. Chris threw the man a withering glare before slapping his hands away. "Go away, Speyer." He chided, continuing what he was doing.
Forest was quick to ignore his warning and was brave enough to sit on his desk. Chris groaned but did nothing. He was really not in the mood to face any person, especially with his temper crackling inside him like untamed lightning bolts. He's almost afraid he'd lash out without his consent.
"So it's not Jessica, huh?" Forest pried and nodded, convinced about his assumption. There was a brief silence and Chris mentally cursed when he heard Forest's devious snicker. "Then it must be Jill." When he continued to stay silent, that's when Forest broke into a loud, obnoxious laugh. "It is! Redfield, you're so screwed!"
"What the hell does that mean?" He hissed, throwing the papers out of his hand for he lost all hopes of gaining concentration.
His friend gave him a forceful pat on the back, so forceful Chris almost chocked. "Do you want me to be honest?" The looks on his friend's eyes made Chris wanna leave the place and never look back, as if he was about to hear something ridiculous yet devastatingly true at the same time. Forest has a way of hitting home that even Chris was sometimes reluctant to disagree no matter how stupid it sounded to the ear.
Narrowing his eyes, Chris hissed. "Do you want me to be honest and tell that you're gay?"
The grin fell from Forest's face and was replaced by a menacing scowl in a split second. "Now we all know that's a lie."
"Says your long—conditioned to perfection—hair." Chris scoffed.
"Fuck you, Redfield. Do you even want to hear what I have to say?" Forest growled; so close to pulling his hair.
Chris finally shut up. A part of him wanted nothing more than to brush his friend's comment off, insisting that his friend was just pulling on his leg and nothing good will come out of that damned mouth, but he chose to hear what he had to say anyway. Besides, an outside input would help you more than your own thoughts. And Chris would give this chance to his friend; steeling himself for whatever shit Forest has to say, close to home or not. Hopefully, he wouldn't regret this decision or he'll pound a hole through that face. With a curt nod, he felt that his fate had been sealed.
"Alright," Forest started, suddenly feeling the grip of superiority in the air. "My friend, you are gravely in denial." He stated flatly, so sure of himself.
There was a pause and Chris waited patiently for an elaboration. When he received a simple yet taunting smirk, his mood instantly flared, hating himself for falling prey to his curiosity and actually entertaining the idea that Forest had something intellectual to say to him this time. Oh, how wrong he was. Begrudgingly, Chris gritted his teeth and formed words of insults inside his head but before he could voice it out, Forest was quick to shove a piece of crumpled paper inside his mouth.
"I'm not finished yet." Forest scolded and watched as he chocked.
It took all of his strength not to pummel the idiot's face to the ground as he settled for a glare instead. If the idiot was going to explain, why wait for his mood to further turn sour? Didn't he know that every second of silence set his nerves on fire, fuels his irritation? Or is it just his way of getting back at him for losing their shooting practice that morning?
Clearing his throat, Forest's light-hearted expression turned into an all-out frown of deep concentration. "Redfield, you have a look I know and see so much in a guy's face. I know you are dense and might not accept what I have to say for now. Heck, you might even cause a dent on this perfectly polished table with my face but I'm your friend and I care about you. So—
"Cut the crap and get on with it!" Chris glowered, his whole mind and body screaming impatience and anticipation. A deep sense of foreboding loomed in every corner of their office; warning him to stop his friend before the blow has been dealt. An unexplainable feeling settled in his gut, the force suffocating him for unknown reasons.
As seconds tick by without Forest uttering a word.
"You're in love."
Scoff.
"With Jill,"
The world stopped for him as word after word flooded his mind but he chose only what could briefly explain his annoyance. "Fuck you, Speyer." Came his snide remark as he pushed himself away from his table and left their office for a quick smoke. Promises be damned.
He knows he needed it.
…
Chris snorted as his hazel eyes fell from Jill's smiling face to the next frame beside it; a group picture of their division where Forest Speyer was grinning beside him, his arm slung lazily over Chris' shoulder. He wanted to believe that what Forest said that day was the truth. That he was in denial. That he was just convincing himself from ever thinking about him falling in love with his best friend.
If only he hadn't knew beforehand.
If only he had not accepted the truth since the very first time he felt it.
Chris found it utterly frustrating how people often assume that he was the dense one, that he was so blind to what he was clearly feeling, how they make him feel like he's the only one not knowing the truth. But in reality, he was not that stupid.
It was bad enough that he had to restrain himself from feeling the indisputable attraction he had harbored over the years for someone he considered too close yet still… so distant.It was painful to even start considering the things he had wanted to say from the very start but held his tongue because he was so scared to drive her further away from him. And having all those people insist what he was supposed to feel is like insult to open wounds. He has been fully aware since the dawn of when he started to feel different, when he started to look at his best friend from a deeper angle.
And Forest's words made him realize all the more just how much it hurts to feel something but can't let it out. Hearing it from someone other than himself made his chest constrict in pure agony.
He shook his head; depression pushing him closer to the brink of insanity. Was asking for a small reprieve too much to offer?
Chris could hear his phone ringing again but paid no attention to it. He had lost the will to even think that Jill would approach him this time. He also thinks that seeing Jessica's number projected on the screen again would probably drive him further to insanity. Pushing himself away from his study, he broodingly walked over to the window facing their front yard; his battered mind taking in the sight of their snow-covered neighborhood.
He was able to muster a small smile as fond images from their childhood flashed in his mind. He remembered he used to climb trees with Jill, sit on their branches, even with the temperature being nigh on unbearable, as they fall into a comfortable silence; admiring the wonders of nature. He remembered everything so white, so clean, and simply majestic.
And sharing those moments with Jill made Chris realize how a simple thing could mean so much more.
He missed those days just as much as he misses her.
Chris sighed once more and was about to push himself away from the window, away from the view that reminded him about the things he didn't want to think about at the moment, but something caught his eyes and effectively cementing him on the spot.
An unfamiliar car rolled to a stop right in front of their house; the navy blue coating a stark contrast to the pristine white hue surrounding the whole area. He frowned as his curious eyes examined the car, trying to remember if he had seen it before but his mind painted him a blank picture. He watched it intently, waiting for any movement, whatsoever. His curiosity turned into suspicion when the car remained still too long for his own liking that he thought about calling the cops.
Oh, wait. He's a cop.
He was about to reach for his badge when the door to the passenger's side opened and a very familiar brunette stepped out. He found himself unable to move as he surveyed her from afar.
Three weeks and there she was; smiling like nothing's wrong with the world as she spoke to the driver through the open door. She looked fine—happy, even! It's as if her being there isn't something to be worried about. It's as if she wasn't worried about seeing him, like what happened three weeks before had been a nightmare.
Chris somewhat felt betrayed and honestly hurt. Was what happened nothing to her at all? Was what he said that day wasn't cruel for it had been the truth after all? Well, the twinkle in her cerulean eyes confirmed it.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to think about anything against Jill.
He took three deep calming breaths before dared to look back at the scene happening on their front yard. Chris eyed her like an eagle waiting for its prey as she closed the door, a proud smile on her face. She looked so beautiful with that red tint marring her cheeks. She's so beautiful it hurts his head to think that he couldn't even touch her the way he wants to.
Looking at her was both gratifying and frustrating.
Chris's trail of thoughts stopped when the door to the driver's side opened and a tanned man stepped out of the car, rushing towards his best friend. It was his first time to see the man and it struck something within him.
Something very bad.
He watched their exchange with unknown irritation seething through every pore of his skin. He was so immersed at the way they talked to each other he had failed to notice that he was already clenching his hands into tight fists, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.
He watched how the man took the bags she was carrying with her smiling brightly at the guy. The way they smiled at each other, talked to each other, and eyed each other, Chris literally forgot how to breathe. The first pangs of jealousy gnawed mercilessly at him.
He's jealous and he knows it. It was so clear to him that he was outraged, standing there and staring at them from afar was too difficult for him to digest. He was replaced by this… this man he knew not existed! For a fleeting moment, Chris remembered the good old times when it was always him.
Him with her, talking to her, walking with her, laughing with her, and simply being there with her.
Seeing this unknown man doing the things he used to do with her struck a bad nerve; the sight causing something inside him to lash out.
Right then and there, Chris wanted to punch someone in the gut.
Man, this is seriously not his day.
•xoxoxo•
I wish we could be together
Just for a day
So I can let you go
Without regrets
•xoxoxo•
Author's Note: How's that? Well, I really did my best with the way my brain had been lagging lately. Okay, so we know that Mama Catharine is on our side! She's shipping ChrisJill too! Isn't that swell? XD Anyway, I need to cut it here. I was planning to put in Jill's POV here but I just think it's too long already. -_- I won't make any promises about the next update but I hope you stay tuned, babies! Mwa! :*
My issues: Okay, this is just basically my rant concerning my absence. It was never in my intention to update so late but I've faced a stage in my life where things got really crappy, I fell into a long episode of depression and stress. It's like I don't know what to do with my life anymore. I can't write like I used to, when I need to, and how I want to. I just totally blanked out. My mind won't function, my life is just drifting. It just sucked how my year started with a blast and when February came, hell broke loose. Literally. I got the news that I'll get promoted into a much decent position but they have to wait until I graduate. By mid-January, my previous supervisor—who was really buddy, buddy with me and everyone—got transferred to another department and was replaced with a frigging beeyotch! The kind who would let you work your ass out, while she lounge around and do absolutely nothing. The same fvcking beetch who kept saying shit about me to our manager—who saw what I'm capable of doing and who wanted to promote me in the first place. Now that manager saw me as incompetent and wouldn't even talk to me like he used to because of that dumb, back-stabbing bitch! Ugh! I hate her. I just hate her! Can you believe this drama, people!? Gah! So, even if it sucked douche eggs, I put up with her immaturity and tried to suck it up. I managed for a few months before I got transferred to a new department, prior to my graduation. BUT, I've been thrown into a crappy department where all my co-workers are flat-out, Grade A bitches, who will talk about you behind your back and sometimes even when you're already there! I can't work with people like that! Oh, no! So, what did I do? Even if I'm frigging broke, I resigned. It brought some sort of relief when I left but the aftermath is still there. I think I've been robbed out of happiness and I can't find myself. I'm trying to, but it's really hard. *sad* Sorry, guysh. I didn't want to bore you with my rant but I hope things are going great for all of you. After all, I love y'all—even if I don't know you in flesh. Still, I love you! *smooch*
Until my next update! See you!
•xoxoxo•
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters because CAPCOM owns them! I also do not own the lyrics of the song Good to You, which was featured here. They are owned by YGENTERTAINMENT and 2NE1. [June 25, 2015 | 0136H]