Reflection - Chapter 5
Edited 6th June 2018 - yeah, I'm still working on these, peace.
Angela didn't know what to do other than stare stupidly at her former lover. She felt conflicted, unsure of whether to follow her heart or her head. Yes, this man was serious about her, not to mention she had always wanted him to come back, she yearned for even the smallest glimpse of him, the quickest kiss from him, anything. Her rare instances of sleep often involved dreaming about him and jolting awake, breaking down when the cold embrace of realisation surrounded her, knowing full well that he wasn't even coming back. She knew they worked so well before, and he made her happy, no matter what. She was blissfully in love with him once upon a time, and she was convinced she still was.
But Angela didn't want to get hurt again. And to be realistic, Ratchet was essentially a stranger now. They'd spent a year apart from each other, and during this time neither of them knew the full extent of what had happened to both of them. Ratchet was unaware of her chronic insomnia, and Angela was unaware of his involvement with DreadZone. Ultimately, yes, she loved him, but she couldn't help but feel their relationship was... tainted, like a dirty mark on a wall that you can't quite ignore; no matter how hard you try to forget it's there, you always see it. Worse still, it's the first thing your eye is drawn to, the disgusting, unsightly smudge of the past. It killed her to remember how painful that particular evening was. She decided a long time ago that it was the worse night of her life...
"Angela?" Ratchet asked, cocking his head slightly. "You still there?"
"Uh, yeah, yes, I am," she said quickly, snapping out of her thought process, which didn't seem to reach any solid conclusions. "You've got to understand that this is rather... well..." she said, faltering as she continued running her hand through her hair, chewing her lip slightly as she thought. She winced slightly as she bit too hard into her lip, and grimaced at the unwelcome taste of metal that swept over the tip of her tongue.
"Well?" Ratchet gently encouraged, quickly running his hand over his head, trying to channel his nervous energy into movement - any movement - to ease the apprehension eating away at his stomach.
She sighed, shaking her head sadly, looked at Ratchet, and continued: "It's... overwhelming. I need to some time to think through all of this." She rubbed her hands over her tired eyes in a futile attempt to ward away the sleepiness. "I feel like I need to get to know you all over again, because, and let's face it, we're not necessarily the same people as we were. We've both done and experienced things that may have changed us." She paused for a moment, unsure as to whether or not her argument made sense. "You understand what I'm trying to say, right?" she asked warily.
"I understand," Ratchet said, adding, "I'm sorry I've thrown this onto you. I felt like I finally had to fix things, and that I'd left it long enough." A guilty expression reappeared on his face. "I couldn't wait any longer."
"I get why you came," Angela said, "and I'm glad you did." And she meant it.
Ratchet's ears pricked up in delight. "R-really?" he asked, grin spreading across his face. Angela thought his sudden burst of enthusiasm was cute, and laughed quietly. "You have no idea how much I've missed that laugh," Ratchet said with a warm smile, causing Angela to blush slightly.
"You're just saying that," she shot back shyly, turning even redder.
"No way, I mean it!" Ratchet insisted. "It's the best laugh I've ever heard."
"I'm sure you say that to every woman you date," Angela joked, her blushing not fading. Ratchet shook his head while he laughed, sinking further back into the sofa. His laughter was so infectious, Angela couldn't help but join too.
When was the last time I even laughed? she thought. She couldn't remember, but right now, it felt so good. She too sank back into the sofa, and felt the sweet embrace of sleep fall over her.
She woke up to the irritating buzzing sound of the alarm clock in her bedroom, a few metres away. As she opened her eyes, she could see the pale daylight filter through the window, illuminating the dust floating in the room. She lifted her head, only to realise what, or rather, who she had used as a pillow for last few hours. Her head had been resting on Ratchet's firm chest. She could hardly contain her delight! She sat up, only to gaze at the Lombax, who was sprawled out on the sofa, his head propped up by his arm, snoring. She noticed a thin string of drool trickling out of the right side of his mouth, and chuckled to herself.
Some things never change, she thought, recalling the many mornings where she would get up to go to work and seeing a damp patch on Ratchet's pillow. She would always get a tissue and wipe the spit off his face. She had gotten really good at it, to the point where Ratchet wouldn't even stir anymore. But this time, she decided she would leave it, and have a bit of fun with him.
She got up from the sofa, ensuring she didn't disturb Ratchet, and tiptoed across to her bedroom. Once inside, she darted to her bedside table and switched her alarm off. She sighed a sigh of contentment, amazed things had turned out the way they had so far, before deciding to take a shower. Hopefully it would put her in better state of mind to make decisions, the first of which was whether she would go to work today.
The hissing of the shower water caused Ratchet to stir. He slowly opened his eyes, and recoiled at the bright daylight from a nearby window. He sat up and felt the cold drool string stick to his face, and recoiled in shock, horror and disgust. Hastily, he wiped it away, and desperately hoped Angela hadn't seen it, mortified at the thought of such an embarrassing situation.
He stretched his arms out and yawned, warding the last cobwebs of sleep away, and stood up. He scratched his nose, getting rid of a small, irritating itch, and realised he was unsure of what he was actually supposed to do. Walking into the bathroom to join Angela was absolutely not an acceptable action, and it wasn't exactly polite to help himself to breakfast either, a custom that his empty stomach growled at in a disgruntled, feed me kind of way.
Ratchet decided to look around Angela's living room instead, and instantly noticed the distinct lack of photo frames in the room. The lack of personalisation perplexed Ratchet, until he suddenly remembered that years ago, there were many framed photographs. Photographs of them. The pang of guilt forced him to return to his seat on the sofa. He felt like the worst person in both Bogan and Solana combined, and buried his face in his hands, groaning loudly and hating himself even more.
"Something wrong?" Angela asked, causing Ratchet to look up. She was wrapped in a bath robe, drying her drenched hair with a towel.
"No, no, of course not," Ratchet replied hastily, offering a cheesy smile. Angela rolled her eyes and laughed.
"Just give me a few minutes to get dressed and call into work," she said, "and we'll discuss everything soon, alright?"
"Sure thing," Ratchet replied, offering a weak smile.
"Nice drool string by the way," Angela taunted before disappearing into her bedroom, the door shutting behind her with a solid click.
Ratchet felt a gut-punching sensation emerge within his torso. She had noticed it! He couldn't believe it! He wanted to crawl into a hole and hide there. To avoid the embarrassment, maybe he could escape out of a window and run away before she came back...
But I did that before, he thought. And now she hates me. Sadly, the Lombax sighed and sat back in his seat, planning what he wanted to say to the woman he was convinced was the love of his life. He had to run away to another galaxy and come back to realise it, but he was certain it was her.
Before Ratchet could even finish his plan, Angela emerged from her bedroom, wearing a cream sweater and jeans. Her hair, which was still slightly damp, was worn loose, and she was running a hairbrush through it, removing the tangles. "So," she said, concentrating on her hair de-tangling, "I've called work, told them I can't come in because of my sleeplessness."
"You can do that?" Ratchet enquired.
"Sure," she shrugged as she leaned against a small table against a wall opposite from the sofa, "I'm a chronic insomniac. This isn't the first time I've done this, not sure it'll be the last."
"Insomnia?" Ratchet raised a concerned eyebrow. "This was never a problem before. What caused this?"
Angela, while concentrating on a particularly stubborn knot of hair, said, "Work stress. Deadlines and whatnot."
Ratchet shot her a skeptical look, which, due to her preoccupation, Angela missed. "Work?" he asked, his voice dripping with doubtfulness.
She stopped brushing her hair, looked up, and simply said, "Yeah, work."
"Are you sure it's not because of anything else?" he pressed.
"What do you mean?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes.
"You fell asleep very quickly last night."
"Sometimes that happens. It's very rare, but it happens."
"On the night I happen to be here?"
"It's called 'coincidence,' Wrench Monkey," she said, sighing in exasperation.
Ratchet chuckled, shaking his head at her stubborness and pride. "Whatever you say, Ang." He continued watching her brush her hair, while she watched him watching her out of the corner of her eye. Silence filled the room with the exception of Angela's hairbrush tugging at her hair. After a moment of silence, she angrily sighed, and said, "Maybe you're right Ratchet, maybe the sleep issues are because of you."
"Thank you!" Ratchet exclaimed, shooting Angela an I told you so look, causing her to scowl. He grinned at her, to which a smile slowly crept across her face, breaking her glare and forcing her into a laugh.
"I can never stay mad at you, Ratchet," she chortled, getting up and wandering over to Ratchet on the sofa, plopping herself beside him.
"Believe me, many have tried," he joked, "but all have failed."
"I've been mad at you all year!" she protested, feeling slightly irked at his self-assured statement. "Don't forget that."
"Yet I still broke your defences down. Trust me Angela, any hard feelings you have are feelings you can't maintain."
"That is a very bold statement," she said angrily, causing Ratchet to chuckle. She couldn't believe the nerve of him! He waltzes in here at ridiculous hours uninvited and unannounced, and here he is acting as if everything is suddenly all okay. She decided enough was enough. Time to put him in his place.
"I think that's enough," she said dangerously, in a low voice, wiping the grin from Ratchet's face. "You're not off the hook yet, you still hurt me."
Ratchet's eyes uneasily flickered around his surroundings, before settling on Angela. "I'm sorry, I went too far with the joking."
"That's okay, it's easy to get carried away," Angela said soothingly.
"Don't we know it," Ratchet shot back cheekily, his grin plastered on his face.
Angela was taken aback. Damn, he is smooth, she thought, her heart fluttering. She mentally cursed. His charm was too much to resist. It seemed that this was the same old Ratchet from before, and she couldn't fight it anymore.
But what if he hurts you again? her brain kept badgering her.
"Shut up," she told herself, "there won't be an 'again', so leave me alone!"
But you know there will be!
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?" Ratchet asked, his face full of worry at Angela's sudden outburst.
"Uh..." she fumbled, feeling the heat as her face slowly turned red. "I... I..." she stuttered, desperately wanting to say how she felt, but found that she couldn't pluck up the courage to say it. She was furious at herself, at her cowardice. Say something, Ang! Say how you feel! You've waited a whole year to say this again! she thought.
"Ang?"
She took a deep breath, and began to speak. "Ratchet," she started, locking her sapphire eyes on his emerald ones, "the way you suddenly left was pretty crappy, but I understand that an entire galaxy's safety and freedom is more important than a lone Lombax's happiness." Ratchet had started to speak up, only to be silenced by Angela. She continued: "It messed me up, and made me miserable, made me an insomniac, made me mad at you for the longest time. But, despite all this, I was desperate for you to come back. I was so desperate, it ached. Everything that happened caused me so much pain. But now you're here, and I've decided what I'm going to do." She longingly looked at Ratchet. "It's crazy, but this is my decision, and I'm gonna do it." And with that, she leaned forward, and kissed Ratchet, feeling a wave of nostalgia run across her brain as soon as her lips made contact with his. This was so familiar, and felt so right, and she hated the fact that they had to break away. The both looked at each other, unsure of how to react to Angela's sudden advance.
"... wow..." Ratchet mustered, struggling to process what just happened.
"I'm giving you another chance, Ratchet. Don't mess this up," she stated, gently caressing his face with her right hand, savouring the physical contact she had spent such a long time away from.
Ratchet looked at the woman who only mere seconds before was convinced he was inevitably going to lose, and said the only thing that sprung to his mind: "Dinner?"
