Idina is pulled from the dark thoughts swirling through her head as she catches sight of a clock. It's past midnight. "It's so late. I'm sorry. I should go so you can get a good nights sleep. I'll go. See you at practice tomorrow. Well, today I guess." Idina rushes around gathering her things. Inside she curses herself for being such an inconvenience, causing such a disruption in James' day. She whirls around to go get her coat and nearly plows over James. "Sorry, sorry." Her muttered apologies and sidestepping are both brought to a halt by a firm, but gentle, hand on her elbow.
"No, honey it's okay. I wouldn't be asleep by now any ways, if that's what you're worried about. And I've enjoyed your company tonight." James' voice is soothing and even, but Idina's mind is too vicious for it to register right now. She gives a dry, cynical bark of a laugh.
"I've been really crappy company tonight. I always am." James stops and Idina resumes her hurried nature. She speaks so poorly of herself as casually as others discuss what they had for lunch. How many times has she made a comment like such and no one noticed? She says it so conversationally, it wouldn't be hard. How many times did they just let her go by? Idina is practically out the door by the time James snaps out of his daze.
"Wait, Idina. No." She freezes at his voice, her hand resting on the doorknob. "Please stay. It's late, and the weather is awful. Not to mention your car is at the theatre. Please. What if you spent the night here and we can stop by your house on the way to rehearsal tommorow? Would that work?" James trieds to convey as much innocent sincerity into his words as he can. Having slowly turned to be facing him, Idina stands and stares. First at James, trying to gauge his sincerity, then out the window. The howling winds and swirling storm mimic the internal turmoil Idina feels. She directs her gaze back to James. His eyes show comfort, worry, sincerity, and something bordering on fear and desperation. He doesn't want her going out in the worsening storm at all, let alone to go home to an empty, panick-stricken apartment.
"Okay." He almost doesn't catch the whispered reply as Idina drops her hand from the knob and her eyes to her hands. She stands there, nearly motionless, as if waiting for instruction. She looks so tiny and fragile, James struggles to resist gathering her in his arms once again.
"Come on. You can borrow a pair of sweatpants if you'd like. One of us can sleep in the bed and the other can sleep in the living room. It doesn't matter to me which." They walk down the short hallway from the entry way to the living room.
"I can sleep in the living room. I wouldn't want to take your bed. I'm intruding enough anyways." Idina trails off with the last sentence and stares at the floor. James continues into his bedroom and returns with a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt. She reaches out to take them and he lifts her chin.
"Listen to me, Idina. You're not intruding at all. Ever. I'm so sorry I left you alone for so long. I wish I would've said something sooner, been able to help you more. But I didn't. And I'm sorry. But please know, baby, you are never, ever an inconvenience, or a bother, or a disappointment." Idina looks down, wishing she could believe the words James is saying. He drops his hand and she turns, clutching the clothes to her chest and fighting tears as she walks to the bathroom. She closes the door behind her and droops up against it, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. The streams continue as she changes quickly. After changing and attempting to wipe away the tears, Idina dares a glance in the mirror. How does James see who he does? All she can see is a broken failure, a disappointment, revolting, disgusting, horrid. Idina breathes deep as she gathers her clothes, fumbling with the door handle as she fights off panic from the rush of words to the forefront of her mind. She hurries back to the living room, slowing her steps just before the area of hallway within James' line of sight. She's caused him enough worry for one night. Gosh, why can't she learn to get a handle on herself and stop ruining everyone else's lives?
Idina steps into the living room and James immeadiately notices the fresh, faint tear streaks on her face. She looks so tiny and broken. His long sleeve thermal shirt dwarfs her small frame. The collar is a bit crooked, exposing the beginning of one of her delicate collar bones and only adding to the childlike appearance. She lies her neatly folded clothes on the floor beside the couch, quietly thanking him for the pillow and blankets. He watches her unfold and organize the blankets largest to smallest, avoiding looking his direction the entire time. Finally, she picks up the top edge and carries all the blankets to the couch spreading them to cover all of her and then some of the couch. Once comfortable, she turns her face into the couch, leaving her back towards the rest of the room, including James. She looks so small all curled into herself. James walks over and kneels beside the couch, resting a hand on her thin shoulder. Turning her towards him, her face becomes visible again. Her eyes are squeezed shut against the onset of more tears. James leans forward and brushes a light kiss to her forehead. "Good night, my angel. Tomorrow will be better." He tucks a stray bit of her behind her ear as he stands and heads to his bedroom, turning off all the lights but one dim lamp as he goes. James stops in his doorway and turns, his thoughts go out to the troubled brunette bathed in the soft yellow light. He hopes her sleep is more restful than before.