Quote of the Chapter:
"When your dog pees the rug, kiss her,
apologize for being late." - Unsolicited Advice to Adolescent Girls with Crooked Teeth and Pink Hair, Jeanann Verlee
Chapter Twenty-Three: I'm (not) normal
That morning, Elizabeth woke up with the clearest head she'd had in years - even with the killer hangover. Still wrapped up in Jericho's spare duvet, dried drool on her cheek, Elizabeth could decisively say that - for the first time in years - she could think straight. Process it all. Even with the pounding pain of a hangover, even with the itchiness behind her eye sockets, even with the dry mouth, Elizabeth could think. Breathe.
And what a wonderful feeling that was.
Wasting no time, Elizabeth got up, neatly folded the extra bedding and shuffled toward Jericho's bathroom. Prepared as always, Jericho herself had left Elizabeth some spare clothes to borrow, joined with a post-it that informed the woman about Jericho's new habit of jogging around the neighbourhood. 'For a potential admirer no doubt,' Elizabeth hummed as she scrubbed away under the shower's warm spray. 'Jogging always was her backup option.'
Once the water had become a lukewarm spray, Elizabeth's fingers as wrinkled as raisins, she'd shut off the water and wrapped herself up in a towel. In moments she was fully dressed, face still pink from the shower's steam. In another few, Elizabeth was emerging from the bathroom, wet towel in hand as she attempted to dry her silver hair.
"Morning," Jericho mumbled between a mouthful of toast, a cup of coffee sitting on a wooden coaster beside her. The usual high ponytail was on show today, paired with lilac leggings and a fluffy black jumper. Eagerly, Jericho gestured to the breakfast spread. "I figured you'd be hungry after last night, so I took the liberty of making you breakfast."
"Thanks Jericho," A wane grin stretched on Elizabeth's lips as she took a seat across from her coworker.
Peacefully, the two women ate together, demolishing the toast and fruit salad that Jericho had made. Not once did they discuss anything about last night. Not once - even when Jericho caught Elizabeth's gaze, looking as if she were burning with a million and one questions - did anyone pry on what occurred. At all. Instead it was a silent teatime, a quiet breakfast.
All too soon, Elizabeth was pushing away from the table, ready to set off for her own home - way back in Vauxhall. The less time Jericho had to probe, the less time Elizabeth had to waste filling her in with pointless details. Meaningless details. Nevertheless, Elizabeth should have never hoped to hide her own problems from a fellow journalist; they were experts at sniffing out the truth.
"Wait," Jericho spoke, making Elizabeth freeze as she went to grab her - Meliodas' - jacket. "We're not finished here."
Damn it. Of course not. Of course they weren't finished because Jericho never ditched a potential date for nothing. Thanks to her stunt last night, hysterical from her rejection, Elizabeth now had to conform to Jericho's demands.
"We're not?" Elizabeth echoed, swallowing the gulp that threatened to form within her throat.
"Nope," Jericho shook her head, her lips pursed into a thin line. Chocolate brown eyes were filled with concern, framed by furrowed brows. "Far from it. I want answers about last night - more specifically, about why you looked like such a wreck when you came back to me."
Ah, of course. Who wouldn't want details about all that? Even Elizabeth herself, a victim of her own emotions and complicated life choices, would die for the chance to properly know everything about what happened last night. Many people - too many people - were watching and waiting to know everything about herself and Meliodas. So many people, in fact, that Elizabeth had tuned it out.
Biting her lip, Elizabeth sighed as she shrugged on the jacket and looked at Jericho. There was so much she had to tell her, so damn much. But also there was so little time to tell it all.
"I'll tell you later, Jericho. I promise," Elizabeth smiled, the plea evident in her voice as she stared into her coworker's skeptical eyes. "You can do the whole interview process on me. I won't stop you. But not today."
For a good moment, Jericho just looked at her. Disapproving frown in place, cup of coffee in hand, it looked as if the woman was ready to make a remark on it all. A scathing remark that would no doubt leave Elizabeth scalding from its blazing damage. Yet, surprisingly, Jericho just blinked at her, taking a slow sip from her coffee as she turned her attention to her phone.
"Alright," Came her answer. "Just don't beg on your knees to him."
And like that Elizabeth was out. Scott free. With a rapid thanks spewed to Jericho and a swift kiss on the cheek, Elizabeth rushed out of her flat and raced down the steps - too frenzied to even consider waiting for the lift. Instead she thundered down into the estate's ground floor, instantly battered by the the drenching rainfall of an early London morning, right in the middle of autumn.
Teeth chattering, Elizabeth powered along the pavement, ignoring the sticky, clinging sensation of her leggings soaking into her skin. She didn't have time for it. Not now. She only had time for getting home.
Shivering, she stood at the bus stop, staring into the misty haze of the early morning street, waiting for a bus that would take her closer to Central or South London. Countless cars zoomed by, the beginnings of the rush hour traffic jam that would clog up the streets, as well as motorcycles - a bold choice for such a rainy day. But it was all normal. Typical for London's setting.
Eventually, the bus did come and Elizabeth staggered into its warm interior, tapping her card on the reader and marching toward a seat at the back. For half an hour she sat there, staring out the window, watching Lewisham bleed into New Cross, which shifted into Peckham, which morphed into Kennington. All too soon Elizabeth was hopping off the bus, all rain cleared and a slight bout of sunshine warming up the air.
Sunshine - a good sign, she hoped. With her clear head and determination to prove - once and for all - that she was right, Elizabeth hoped that this morning she was doing the right thing. Intensely, she hoped that this morning she would not repeat last night. She hoped that Meliodas wouldn't reject her once more, kick her to the curb right outside their place.
Withdrawing all negative thoughts, Elizabeth shook her head and began to walk in the direction of her home. Yeah, it would all go well. It had to. Otherwise she was wrong and everything she'd ever thought, everything she'd ever believed, was wrong.
'Why couldn't she ever be normal?' Was the first fleeting thought. 'Why couldn't she ever just be a normal girl?'. But Elizabeth already knew the answer to that. Much too complicated, much too sensitive, she wasn't at all like a normal girl. Meliodas liked her because of that; he liked that she wasn't like your average girl, the sort he could show off to his parents or be proud of.
Even in the past, back when things had been simpler - much easier, Elizabeth knew that she wasn't normal. Unlike most of his friends, Elizabeth didn't know much about Meliodas' life outside of school. Sure, she knew the basics, stuff like his interests and his favourite hangouts and the kinds of stuff he liked, but she never knew much about his family, anything to do with his home life.
At first she'd brushed it aside as embarrassment. Elizabeth herself, the child of a strict, devout Catholic woman, tended to keep her mother hidden from her friends. Either too snobbish or too peculiar for most people her age, Elizabeth's mother was always a formidable roadblock when it came to her childhood friendships. A looming shadow.
However, as they grew older, began to expose more and more secrets, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel - sense - that Meliodas was keeping important things hidden, vital chunks. And, for some reason, Elizabeth was the only one who didn't know these things. Elizabeth was the only one he kept secrets from.
Diane, Jericho, even King seemed to differ in that opinion. To them, Elizabeth wasn't strange, didn't lack the qualities that could bring pride and make people want to show her off. In their minds she knew much more than them; Meliodas placed his entire world in her hands while he only gave them tiny snippets. But their beliefs just didn't explain it all. They - not even Diane - knew the full truth behind Elizabeth and Meliodas' relationship.
No-one knew about the past; no-one knew about the diary; no-one knew about the drugs. No-one knew anything.
So they couldn't truly know why - not in the way Elizabeth did - Meliodas kept secrets. They couldn't know why he had a right not to trust her, to treat her the way he did.
All too soon Elizabeth was face to face with her own front door, keys jammed into the lock as she took in a deep breath and twisted them. Now or never. Never or now. This moment was hers to seize and hers alone.
"I'm back," Surprise was her first emotion. Even on a good day, Elizabeth Liones would never expect to see Ban of all people sprawled out on the floor, a puppy curled up on his chest.
Oddly usual for the pair, the front room looked like a bomb hit it: everything was scattered everywhere it shouldn't be. If Elizabeth had to guess, she'd say that they'd had another fight between them, tossing cushions across the room while also throwing punches at each other. Typical Ban and Meliodas behaviour, their usual way of communicating with each other that only seemed to mystify Elizabeth when she saw it in person.
To the unsuspecting eye, it would look exactly like a heated brawl. Fists would fly and blood would shed but both would end the fight with happy grins and quaking laughter that instantly dissolved the intense terseness that often hung in the air when they fought.
After that, they would usually crash, a lazy jumble of Meliodas and Ban as they laughed their bellies raw. Yep nothing new. At all. And Elizabeth was glad that it was like that; it meant things were close to being somewhat normal.
"I'm sorry I'm back late," Elizabeth whispered, ruffling Meliodas hair as she placed a kiss on his forehead. She should have never left him by himself like this, especially after saying she'd forever leave his life, let him get on without the burden of her own problems. That was a foolish decision to make, especially in the heat of an argument.
But she would try to make amends if he also attempted to as well. That was, after all, how their friendship of constant push and pull had worked over the past decade.
No other words said, Elizabeth quietly made her way to the kitchen, decided on her decision to make something to eat. Jericho making her breakfast, although unexpected, had helped her greatly. Having something to eat, made by someone else, helped Elizabeth to process greatly. So with that in mind, Elizabeth rolled up her sleeves and got to work in the kitchen.
And, in that moment, mixing up pancake batter while the frying pan spat oil bubbles, Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder. Is this why she couldn't be a normal girl? Or was this, what she had, part of being a normal girl?