It's Brittany, Bitch | Ερις (eristic) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-05-31 21:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | eris, phobos |
Fake A Smile
Who: Rylee and Charlie
What: Oh, look, it’s that person you used to be best friends with and now have barely spoken to in three years...
Where: Lobby of Pax Letale, the elevator and Rylee’s apartment
When: May 29th, mid afternoon
Warnings: None, amazingly.
The move into the building so fancily titled Pax Letale had been swift and simple, just the way Charlie liked things - considering that she owned little had certainly helped in that regard, and though her apartment was still littered with a few boxes and strewn about pieces of furniture, she was oddly already beginning to feel at home. Returning from taking Jack for a walk, the leash unhooked from his bright-red collar and curled tightly around her left hand, she took a moment to stop by the mailboxes and check for whatever might be coming her way. The German Shepard happily danced around her for a moment until a stern “sit!” command had him politely waiting, his brush of a tail sweeping across the stone floor of the lobby.
Of the few things in her mailbox, all were garbage; it never ceased to amaze her in how quickly telemarketers and the like were able to follow a person from location to location. Folding the envelopes and papers in half, she tucked them into a back pocket while turning on her heel to look at her dog. A free hand paused on his head, giving him a signal to follow as she moved away from the mailboxes in the direction of her apartment. Jack nearly bumped into Charlie’s hip as she paused, her eyes drawn by the sight of someone walking in the front doors, momentarily caught in a deer-in-headlights spell.
It had taken a few tries, but Rylee had carefully adjusted the two boxes to balance one upon another without jiggling or coming dangerously close to falling as he lifted them up in his arms. They were, thankfully, the final boxes he had to move into his apartment. He had already moved the most important of his possessions in and these two remaining ones consisted of odds and ends; photos of his family and the past twenty nine years of his life. Some random thing to sit on a coffee table or hang from a wall, that kind of useless stuff.
He made a momentary pause as he walked into the lobby and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light and completely failed to notice the woman. But he noticed the dog and Rylee quickly averted his eyes. He was never a dog person by any means. They were just too big, too hard to control, and they had teeth that could bite you. He turned and began to walk towards the elevators, giving a wide berth between himself and the creature with fangs.
Jack was the friendly sort, though he wouldn’t greet others without the permission of his owner, as all service dogs were trained to do. So he chose to sit, long tongue lolling out of his mouth, until Charlie decided what they were doing. The boxes in front of the man’s face obscured his identity, but the small bit of blond hair that was rowdily crowning his head seemed familiar - or maybe it was just wishful thinking on Charlie’s part, but she was fairly certain that she could put a name to this particular person. Whether she wanted to chance looking like an idiot and calling someone she didn’t know another person’s name was something else entirely.
Glancing down at Jack, she dropped a hand to his head and scratched affectionately, though her face continued its stoic expression. Finally, Charlie swallowed her pride and decided to take the risk - if she ended up being mistaken, well, she could just hide out in her apartment for a few weeks until both parties involved forgot about this particular incident.
“Rylee?”
He had taken a few more steps before the voice really registered. He hadn’t spoken to Charlie in years, not since their blow out when he announced his intentions to leave the Corps, so it was understandable that Rylee had, at first, thought he was hearing things. But then curiosity got the best of him and he paused, turning to the voice, and immediately felt his jaw drop.
“Charlie?” He let out a slight laugh and didn’t move for a moment, just stared at her with amazement. The last person he had expected to see and here she was, a couple of feet away from him, and the owner of the fanged animal. But just as his heart was beginning to beat rapidly, pleased to be seeing his best friend, he realized that it would be more appropriate to think of her as a “former” best friend. His smile quivered, then slowly began to fade, as his face plainly displayed his confusion and maybe a little bit of the old hurt she had caused. Would she be happy or angry that he was there? “I didn’t expect to see you...”
She was trying to think of how long it’d been - sure, maybe some scattered letters, emails, the odd phone call or two, but the last time they’d really spoken to each other? A really long time, she finally admitted to herself. And who’s fault was that, huh? Brushing those thoughts from her mind, her face relaxed into a more stoic and less bitchface expression.
“Same, believe me. I know you said you moved to California, but, uh, didn’t figure on moving into the same apartment building.” Her words dropped for a moment, the only sound being Jack’s constant panting.
“Um, do you need some help?” She pointed to the boxes in his arms, unsure if he’d want help from her. In her mind, she was replaying the fight they’d had a little over three years ago, the stupid things she’d said. (Well, when didn’t she say stupid things in arguments? Sometimes that was all that her arguments were.) A good portion of her wanted to wave, say ‘nice seeing you,’ and just walk away as fast as her feet could take her back to her apartment. But she’d never been one to walk (or run) away from any sort of confrontation, so instead she kept her ground.
“Oh,” Rylee replied with a quick look of surprise. He had totally forgotten the boxes he was holding and glanced down at them. He wouldn’t have her carry a box or anything. He could handle them easily considering he could bench press his own weight. But this was Charlie and he figured this offer could be a small step for her to start talking to him again. Not that all of this was Charlie’s fault, no, when she was upset and hurt by his decision to leave Rylee gave her space. That might have been the wrong idea because their communication all but halted after that and Rylee didn’t consider the occasional question of how one another was to be true communication. It was nothing compared to how close they had once been.
“You know, I could use some help,” Rylee offered with a small smile. I don’t want to fight, was implied in that smile. “If you could just help me hit the elevator buttons and maybe get my door to the apartment? I can handle the boxes. But... you know... only if you aren’t busy.”
“Do I look busy?” She retorted, trying to bring some sarcasm into the conversation. Trying to make it less awkward than it already was, trying to - what? Smooth things over between them? Helping him with some boxes wasn’t going to make up for screaming her head off at him, nor would it erase the time spent apart. But, again, she tried to forget those thoughts in favor of just being in the present moment. Jack followed at her heels as she moved across the lobby toward the elevator - which looked like a piece of shit, all things said, and she was grateful she didn’t have to use it in her daily commute to and from her apartment - and hit the ‘up’ button.
“So, uh, first day moving in?” The German Shepard moved around her again, then went to sniff Rylee’s pants, going from feet to waist, a somewhat intrusive gesture in the human world.
“Jack, no! Sit!” Charlie grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back, pushing him into a sitting posture next to her sneakers and jeans. Unfazed by Charlie’s reprimand, he began to pant again. “Sorry. Dogs - he’s trained, for the most part, but he still gets curious.” Her eyes went to the countdown above the elevator doors, watching as the car descended to the lobby. For a moment she thought that maybe it was a bad idea to trap herself in a small box with someone to whom she owed a lot of explanations, but then again, Charlie had rarely if ever been someone who thought things out all the way.
“I’ve been here for three days, actually,” Rylee managed to choke out as he looked up at the ceiling. He became tense as the dog sniffed around him and felt a slight sweat break out over his forehead. He did not like dogs. Dogs that were big were especially frightening and this dog, this Jack, was very large. When the elevator doors glided open Rylee quickly stepped inside the box and stood close to the one wall and away from the dog.
“Could you hit seven, please?” He shifted the boxes in his arms and kept his eyes on the wall as the doors swung closed again. “I’ve been taking my time with moving my things in. Unpacking here and there, getting stuff organized before I dragged more things over from the hotel I was living in. How about you? How long have you been here?”
Reaching out with a precise movement, Charlie tapped the round number seven. Instantly it glowed as if praising her choice, and she leaned back into a corner, pulling Jack by his collar to keep him near her. She was all too observant of Rylee’s discomfort around the animal, and it brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. Not in laughter at Rylee’s anxieties, but just that...that he hadn’t changed much, if at all.
“A little while. Don’t have a lot, so it was a quick move.” Her answer was succinct, giving away almost nothing in comparison to what he’d said. She was starting to feel apprehensive, wondering if and when he would ask why she was in California, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t think it strange. Maybe he’d just assume that she’d switched bases, that she was back in the states between careers, or maybe he wouldn’t ask at all. That would be nice, not having to answer any questions at all. She almost sighed dreamily at the thought, but managed to hang on to her apathetic expression.
“Hotels? I thought you were going to be a tour guide or something, I guess you decided on a different career path?” Again the note of teasing, a smile faintly curving her lips, carefully keeping the conversation away from herself and wanting to know more about what had been going on with him, what she’d missed out on while she’d been throwing a huge temper tantrum because of a decision he’d made. Her free arm wrapped around her middle with the other kept to Jack’s collar, the animal sitting patiently by his owner’s side, tongue lolling and completely at ease in the tense situation.
He glanced at her and made a crooked smile before noticing the dog once more and turning back to stare straight ahead. “I got my MA and I’m working with a museum that’s an hours drive away from here. I’m a junior curator, can’t be a legit one until I get around to getting my PhD but I’m finding it difficult to pick out a program that I would like to apply to.”
He frowned slightly after he said this, wishing he could take it all back. The very reason he had left the Corps was because he wanted to go for the MA and now he wasn’t so sure if he should be bringing it up. “So how about you? We’re pretty far away from Pendleton for you to report to duty every day. Or are you just doing the reserves for now?”
Rylee genuinely was interested, almost eager, because this was his friend... former friend... and he did enjoy hearing how her life was. He had long suspected something was amiss but maybe he was just overreacting, which was entirely typical of him. The elevator dinged overhead and Rylee eased out into his hall. “I live in 706, my keys are on my lanyard if you could please grab them.” He motioned his head to the USMC lanyard hanging out of his back pocket and began to walk down the hall.
The smile lingered on her face for all of five seconds when he started mentioning the Marines. It was an almost instantaneous thing, the way her face went from somewhat happy to a complete blank, nearing angry expression. Letting go of Jack’s collar, the German Shepard bounded ahead excitedly as the doors opened, eager to explore this new territory. Without answering, Charlie grabbed the lanyard and yanked probably a little too hard, but it wasn’t with intent to harm, really. Just her emotions getting the better of her.
“I’m, ah, in a different line of work now,” she answered stuntedly, moving around Rylee and his boxes to reach the door of 706 first. The key slid into the lock smoothly and the door opened with a single push, leaving Charlie on the outside with an arm wide to let Rylee enter the apartment. As soon as he was inside, she’d probably head straight back for the elevator, if it hadn’t been for Jack. The curious dog slipped into the apartment without so much as a cursory glance asking if such a motion was allowed - Charlie had become somewhat lax on her pet’s training as of late, giving the dog more lead than he should have.
“Jack, you stupid-” She started to curse, her eyes watching helplessly as he sauntered into the apartment as though he owned it, going inside without Rylee’s permission to grab her animal and drag him back outside, leaving the door wide open.
“Oh, what do you do now?” Rylee replied just before the dog skidded into his apartment. Frowning, he followed the dog and sat the boxes on the small kitchen table. Everything was impeccably neat and in its place, other than these two boxes. A wall was devoted to bookshelves filled to the brim with Civil War and history books, decorated with knickknacks Rylee and his father had collected years before. There were two comfortable couches, one faced the window that looked over the beach and the other faced the small TV. Besides a rug he had thrown down, there wasn’t much else. No, the final touches were all in the cardboard boxes he had been carrying.
He looked at Charlie as she began dragging the dog out and his frown deepened. “Leaving so soon?” Rylee didn’t think he had changed much since he saw Charlie last. Well, maybe he was a little more built. He actually had more time for weight training now that he was out of the Marines than he did when he was in and his hair was longer. He preferred to allow his hair to curl slightly in its natural way and never really did like the high and tight that was standard issue. And Charlie looked pretty much just like she used to, seemed to act the same as well, but there was something in her expression that seemed to cry injury. Whether it was mental or physical, Rylee felt that something had happened to her during the years that they hadn’t spoken. “Why don’t you stay for a little bit? You can keep your... dog... here too. I could use the company.”
She paused in the entryway, a hand hooked in Jack’s collar. Why she was hesitating now was beyond her - she’d never been one to back down from anything, but generally that was more bluff than truth. Trying to sigh quietly so he couldn’t see her already mounting frustration, Charlie straightened and clipped the lead to Jack’s collar once more, to keep him under control. A free hand went to her loose hair, tucking it behind one ear. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the bits and pieces that made up the whole of Rylee’s personality.
Aparment 103, Charlie’s living space, was barren in comparison, the only real decoration being a handful of pictures of her at a young age with her parents and one of her and Rylee just after high school graduation that she’d hung on to out of sentimentality. His apartment was bigger, too, but that didn’t mean anything to Charlie - the space she’d rented was perfect for her needs, considering how much time she spent outside of it. She kept her gaze away from him, instead narrowing in on one of the bookshelves as though to ingrain the titles in her mind’s eye.
“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” she agreed in a somewhat timid voice, and quickly shifted the subject of conversation away from his other question, hoping he’d believe she hadn’t heard and forget it himself. “What museum are you working at?”
“The Los Angeles Museum of Natural History and I help with the Costa Mesa Historical Society when I can,” Rylee replied, noting her avoidance of his question. He reached into one of the boxes and began to pull out framed photos. He already had a hammer and some nails waiting and figured he could get some work done while Charlie visited. There were numerous pictures of his parents, particularly his father. Some pictures of himself as a little boy, his hair having been even more blond than it was now, holding a cat that they had once had. And then numerous photos of himself and Charlie scattered around copies of pictures he took while in Iraq. War photos. Perfect to add to his obsession, even if he had discovered his nerves couldn’t handle the battlefield and he was happier in Intel offices.
He was silent for a moment, focusing on the organization of his framed photos. Where would he hang them all? He glanced up, looking over the wall space, then back to the pictures. He separated one photo of himself with his dad, standing on Little Round Top in Gettysburg on the last trip they made before he had died. That picture was special and would go in Rylee’s bedroom. The others were designated for the living room.
“So, um, the dog’s name is Jack?” Rylee muttered, his nerves sparking now that he was mentioning the fanged one who seemed to be eyeing him from a distance even while leashed, but he pretended to just be really focused on the pictures. “When did you get him?”
Her eyes went back to the German Shepard. “A year ago.” Question answered, and she offered no elaboration. Charlie had never liked animals and had never had a pet up until she’d gotten Jack, and that was only because a doctor had nearly insisted on the assignment of a service dog. Having no family and being unwilling (or perhaps untrusting?) of those around her, the dog had proved invaluable every time she’d gotten paranoid about someone being in her apartment, or when she’d slipped into depression. Gently scratching the spot between Jack’s ears, the dog’s head titled upward toward her hand and his tongue lolled out of his mouth happily. The stupid thing had grown on her and Charlie had found herself at a loss for argument against the doctor’s orders.
Glancing back up, she watched as Rylee tried to figure out where to hang the pictures. She’d never claim to be a decorator of any sort; she loathed HGtv, and was thus all too content to sit back and watch him flounder. Charlie took a few steps forward to peek at the photos, feeling her heart drop into her stomach at the happy scenes of family, of Rylee’s dad, and then how many there were of them together. Eschewing those, she picked one of Rylee’s family up, as though to give it a closer look when really it was just an excuse.
“Enjoying the museum job?” Evasive much?
Rylee smiled at Charlie, glad she had come closer to his side, and yet he felt tense. She was hiding something from him, something that made her angry or feel like a failure, or maybe both. He had been friends with Charlie for half of his life, he could read her easily enough and was sure she hadn’t changed that much since they last saw each other. “Yeah, I really enjoy it. It’s definitely what I’m meant to be doing. I feel at home there.”
He took one of the framed pictures from Iraq and walked away from Charlie, turning his back to her as he placed it on one of the shelves in the bookcase. “Your dog... he seems... nice,” he stammered out. “Is it just you and him out here?”
“Mhm,” she responded, continuing to peruse the photo as if looking for some answer in its image. Rylee walked back to the table, looking at Charlie’s face and waiting for some type of change in expression but not really expecting one.
After a moment he picked up another photo from Iraq and brought it to the bookcase. He decided to offer more information with hope that maybe Charlie would relax more and ‘fess up to whatever it was she was keeping from him. “It’s just me here... Mom is still back home, but that’s it. I don’t really stay in contact with many of my Marines and you know I never made many friends while in school.”
He had a soft spot in his heart for the Marines he’d lead while he was a Lieutenant but he had always kept it strictly business. It had been enough that he was friends with Charlie, who was of a lower rank, because it was fraternizing. But most had let it slide after finding out that he and Charlie had known one another since they were fourteen.
Obviously he was trying to get more out of her - it was cruel to think he wouldn’t care, but Charlie’s pride and stubbornness was unwilling to say anything more. How embarrassing would it be to admit what had happened? Especially after she’d made such a huge deal about leaving the Marines. Carefully she set the picture down, tugging on Jack’s lead to have him follow her as she drifted away from Rylee and closer to the bookcase.
“Hope you’re mom’s doing all right,” she replied. “It’s, uh, just been me and this dumb sack of rocks for a bit.” Though she called the dog names, the tone she used was affectionate and her hand, again, went to the top of the dog’s head. Sometimes she hated the fact that she’d rarely gone out of her way to make friends with others, but mostly she was glad she’d never taken the time to build such relationships. She knew they’d only come crashing down in the end - just look at what had happened with me and Rye, she mentally added, easily forgoing the fact that it was her fault their relationship had fallen apart. Of course, he was certainly going out of his way to try and find out, and in a manner that allowed her to present the facts as she wanted. It still didn’t make admitting anything easier.
“I haven’t been around here long enough to meet anyone,” she added, as though attempting to give him back some of the friendly conversation he’d been offering.
He straightened out the picture on the bookshelf then let out a sigh. He turned to Charlie, looking down at her. Despite the fight they had, he still cared for Charlie and he knew that wouldn’t change. He wanted to embrace her, hold her close, and have her fight him off like she usually would. Rylee was a firm believer that everything happened for a reason and here she was, standing in his apartment, the both of them accidentally moving to the other side of the country and into the same exact apartment building.
Before he allowed himself to talk himself out of the idea he impulsively brushed back a hair from her face. “I’ve missed you, Charlie,” he said quietly. “What happened between us? Really?” He hoped she understood. She had flipped out on him for leaving the Marines and then they separated. The issue wasn’t that big of a deal for their years of friendship to just go up in flames. There had to be more to it.
The sudden movement and contact surprised her, causing her to take a step back. Not too long ago she was all too familiar with his hugs and other small touches; she knew his family was more of the touchy-feely type, and the contact helped him to keep his anxiety in check. More than once in high school she’d felt comfortable enough with him to offer her own, helping to comfort him after a bad episode of anxiety. And more than once he’d taken her off guard, earning himself a black eye for his trouble, though after awhile she managed to knock that off.
“I don’t know.” Charlie had never been good at lying, and that fact was more than apparent now. She’d freaked about him leaving the Marines, freaked about him leaving, freaked because it reminded her of the day Mom had walked out the door and had never come back. It terrified her to think he’d disappear and rather than let herself get tied up and hurt again, she’d pushed him as far away as she could. He’d given space, thinking that was what she needed, and in the end they’d just drifted apart. Staring at him for a moment, she chewed on her lip and finally blurted out part of what he wanted to know.
“I was discharged.” The admission was nice, lifting a little of an unknown burden from her shoulders. Jack moved around her legs, tangling her in the leash.
“Oh,” Rylee said softly. “Okay... I’m very sorry, Charlie.” He moved past her and picked up the hammer and a nail before returning to the living room. “Were you injured?” He tried to say it casually but there was the quiver in his voice that normally appeared when he was growing anxious. She could have been hurt and he would not have known anything about it. He would have been a terrible friend, giving her space, and not helping her or at the very least offering to help her.
He leaned over the TV, his shirt rising and exposing his boxers, and he lightly bit the front of his tongue as he tried to gently tap the nail into the wall. He would hang the biggest picture of himself and his parents over the TV then smaller pictures to each side. But at the moment, despite this being the plan, it was only serving as a distraction to what was really going on. He was acting with caution, as if Charlie was a wild animal and he was worried he’d frighten her.
Fifteen years lent her the experience to tell when Rylee was getting anxious. Chewing on her lip again, she focused on disentangling herself from Jack’s lead, trying to think of the best way to phrase almost getting blown up by a home made bomb. Leaving the question unanswered would only let Rylee think of the worst case scenarios, and then she’d really have a problem on her hands when he went into one of his classic freak-out modes that would probably involve him hiding under a blanket, hyperventilating.
“Uh, yeah,” was the only thing to come rolling out of her mouth, stupidly, as she turned around and tried to get Jack to sit once more, just off to her left. A hand went to her elbow, eyes looking at the other side of the room. “So here I am,” she added lamely, hoping to bypass discussing the topic altogether. Now she was starting to feel guilty about not at least writing to him, or giving him some kind of a heads up that she’d been in the hospital. But of course she’d still been sore about his leaving, her self-pity letting her wallow in the idea that if he was done with the Marines, he must have been done with her as well.
Fingers scratched at her elbow, going to glance at him again and try to see if he was going to have a panic attack, and wondering what the hell she’d do if he did.
He stepped back from the wall, looking at the nail that was now embedded in it, and tapped the hammer against his leg. “When?” was all that he could get out as he felt his stomach sink and a wave of guilt already beginning. He turned quickly and returned to the table, grabbing the large photo of his family, and hanging it on the wall. He stepped back, looked it over, and straightened it. All of this done with quick movements as his nerves began to take over. “Road-side bomb? An IED?”
He had all but forgotten how to formulate complete sentences which was partially due to his rising anxiety. But it was also caused by his worry for her, his anger at himself for not having talked to her, and the need to find out the information he was seeking. He was completely serious when he asked these questions and hoped Charlie could remember that when he got this way he needed the answers, or else. He looked at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line as he tapped the hammer against the side of his leg again, and gave a shake of his head. “Tell me, Charlie.” Well, at least this was taking his mind off of the dog.
“Why does it matter now? I’m obviously in one piece,” she retorted, her hackles rising. For Charlie, the best defense was an offense, and anger came so easily to her; all worry about reassuring his anxiety went out the window. Jack noted the change in her tone, head swiveling to the source of the sound and ears lying back. He didn’t move, though, which probably meant he had grown used to his owners easily swayed temperament. The hand holding the lead grew white, her other arm dropping to grab another part of it, giving themselves something to do while her mouth made an ass of itself.
“I mean, you checked out, so I didn’t feel the need to burden you with trivial details like that,” she added, instantly regretting the words once they came out of her mouth. Once she got going, she went all the way, often too far. If she was looking to further destroy what was left (if anything was left) of their friendship, she was certainly on the right path.
Rylee immediately looked hurt. Her words had stung but quickly they were replaced with slight confusion. “You know you never were a burden to me. And I left the Marine Corps, that was it, Charlie. My leaving the Marines did not in any way mean I wanted to leave you or our friendship. Considering we were both stationed at different bases I didn’t think it would matter much if I was in or not.
“But I was growing tired of the military, it was too stressful and I was too nervous. You were my best friend, you were my only friend. Why would I just throw that away? I’ve always worried about you and wondered if you were safe. I could have been there, I could have helped you if you needed it, hell, I could have just been your punching bag if that’s what you wanted.”
He made his hands into fists as he spoke then let out a loud breath as he spun away and went to the table, picking up one of the boxes, then brought it to the living room where he dropped it down on the coffee table with a loud thunk. He didn’t move for a moment and practiced the breathing exercises he had been taught as a kid. Calming down only slightly he looked back up at Charlie, his face sad and his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t want to fight with you but don’t push me away. Look, we’re both here, that has to mean something. And I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m sorry for giving you space and allowing us to drift apart. I take the blame for that.”
And with a few simple words, she felt her anger defuse. He had always been the logical one, able to cool her head when she felt herself growing frustrated or angry. Well, almost always - growing up, she’d been the one to protect him, even if it meant making things a little harder for the both of them, but in the end they’d both relied on each other for things they’d lacked in themselves. Her face still held an angry expression, despite the feeling of such emotion draining from her belly.
“Why do you always have to be so goddamn logical?” she muttered under her breath, annoyed for the sake of being annoyed and in being talked down. “I’m always the logical one,” Rylee joked with a sad smile.
“Why does it have to mean anything? It could just be a stupid coincidence. I mean, there aren’t that many apartments in California...” she added, the volume of her voice louder than before. Coincidence or not, she couldn’t help feel that things would have been so much easier had they both not ended up in the same apartment building - she could have gone on blaming everyone else for everything wrong in her life, would have been left alone with her stupid dog, would have been perfectly fine with no one else around. She crossed her arms over her chest, then dropped her arms to her sides after a moment.
“Look, I’ll leave you to your unpacking.” Charlie curled Jack’s lead around her left hand once, giving it a bit of a tug to signal for the dog to get up and follow. The German Shepard did so eagerly, always ready to be up and off to the next place, taking everything in life as an adventure. His owner, however, was ready to get out and just go back to her apartment, to take a minute to cool down and try to puzzle out how she felt about this current development.
And then she was proclaiming that she was ready to go, ready to leave, and for a frightening moment it was Rylee who was afraid she was going to walk right out of his life. Not again. This had already happened once and he had nearly just gotten her back. Of course there was still a lot that the both of them had to work through to regain the friendship they once had but he wasn’t going to let her run away and hide that easily.
He eased his way around the coffee table and with a few quick strides was at her side, wrapping his arms around her torso with her arms pinned to her side, and hugged her tightly. Charlie instantly froze, her body going rigid. “I’ve missed you, you idiot,” He muttered with his chin resting on top of her head. “Please don’t shut me out and walk away. If you have to go, then go, but don’t leave and not come back. I’ll even try to not be terrified of your dog. Okay?”
He let her go, never knowing how long she would be willing to put up with a hug. Not only that, but it had been a long time since they had physical contact and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Well, any more uncomfortable than she normally felt when he would hug her.
Charlie stood in the spot where he’d let her go, frozen and with a panicked look on her face. Jack seemed to note the tension in her body, moving closer and pressing his wet nose to her hip. Unless she was four-sheets to the wind, or very, very relaxed in some other way, physical contact was nearly always an impossibility for her - of course, unless she was pounding her fist into some poor sap’s face. Her eyes flicked up from staring at the floor to Rylee’s face, glaring at him in the same fashion she often had in high school and throughout their military careers whenever he’d done something that annoyed her.
“Well,” she started, the words coming slowly. “I don’t think there’s much of a chance of us completely missing each other, since we live in the same building.” He was getting a little mushy for her tastes, but it certainly was the same old Rylee.
“Yeah, fancy that,” he replied as she shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets. He was beginning to feel anxious again, second guessing himself for having hugged her, it was probably the wrong thing to do and her facial expression backed up that concern. Again she felt a pang of guilt for essentially being a frigid bitch, and she wondered, many times throughout their friendship, why the hell he decided to hang around. She was also glad that he was offering an olive branch, of sorts, especially since he had zero reason to; she was the one going around picking fights and here he was trying to clean up her messes.
Looking down at Jack, who’d taken to staring up at her face while panting again, she quirked a brow. “And there’s no reason to be afraid of Jack. He’s more likely to eat you out of house and home than to bite.” He looked at the dog and felt his anxiety heighten. Just because Charlie was perfectly fine having the dog around didn’t mean it wasn’t still dangerous. It had teeth, after all.
“He seems.... happy,” he muttered as he observed the dog. Well, he would rather the dog find interest in his food then himself but it was still nerve-wracking because the dog was just so big. “Jack, that’s a good... name... for a dog...”
Charlie sighed. “He’s a trained service dog, Rylee. He’s not going to jump up and maul your face off.” And that bit of information would probably bring out a dozen more questions, but she didn’t want Rylee to have a heart attack every time he saw her pet. There were a dozen things in a day that would frighten Rylee, and it gave her an odd sense of comfort to alleviate at least one of them.
“Unless you’re suddenly allergic to dogs, you can pet him,” she added.
His eyes flicked back to Charlie for a moment then he slowly inched forward. In this instance, the information that Jack was a trained service dog totally went in one ear and out the other, he was too busy being fixated on the beast. He took a step closer to Charlie again and by default, closer to Jack, and slowly reached out a hand to pet the dog.
The dog responded happily and Rylee let out a small sigh as he discovered that Jack really had no intention of biting his hand off. His fur was thick and soft, the head a little knobby, and his pants were oddly... comforting. Rylee could remember having a cat as a kid but had never had any other pets after that one had wandered off. He looked at Charlie and smiled, patting Jack on the head once more before he stepped back. “He seems nice, Charlie. A comforting companion.”
He stood up straight, his smile never fading as he tried for another impulsive move, “Would you and Jack like to hang around for dinner? I wasn’t going to make anything big, just pasta, but you’re welcome to dine with me. The both of you. I think I have some ham or something in the fridge I could give Jack.”
She took a moment to think, the silence stretching out between them. What could it hurt, her deciding to stay? “Well don’t spoil him, don’t want to get him back downstairs and have him expecting the same every day. He’s expensive enough as it is.” Again it was meant to be sarcastic, but the tone came off a little harsher than she intended. Letting the lead droop a bit, she let her annoyed expression fade a little in favor of a blank mask, trying to let herself relax a little since Rylee obviously had no ill will toward her. “And yeah, dinner sounds good.” One little step at a time.