—chapter fifteen.

  ❛ this shit's overblown. life's overrated. 
so why am i trying so hard at it? ❜

"YOU'RE GOING TO BE CALM TODAY, RIGHT?"

Elodie glanced over to the older woman, taking in the stern almost glare that was being sent her way. She felt herself shrivel. "Yeah. Of course."

"Good. Because," she paused, swiping the tube of lipstick across her thin lips, "it won't do either of us much good if you leave any meetings with him estranged."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...was having an off day, is all."

Matialli's look softened a little, but she didn't say anything about that. Probably because there was nothing to say to it. They both knew she was lying and Elodie was certain she knew that her father was more than an innocent, but acknowledging either fact meant poking holes in their own cases.

And so she just slipped her lipstick back into her bag and straightened her blazer, standing still in wait for someone to escort them in.

Elodie, this time, had had several days to prepare herself for the visit. It was one of the most official ones; just before the case, where they all had to sit and ready every argument and play that they would pull. And she felt a little less queasy than she normally would walking in there, though not by much, feeling somewhat protected by Matialli's presence.

Not that her father wasn't capable of a massacre with a witness. But, still.

Her mood had remained higher the past few days, too. Despite the constant worrying of what was to come, it was easier to continue with life, what with Diego swinging by every other day, and Ellis and her Grandmother to talk to otherwise. She finally had something other than her father's crimes to think about, and maybe that was what kept her shoulders high and wits about her that day.

Out of the corner of her eye, a dark shadow moved, and Elodie watched the same detective that she had met last week stroll up. Detective Patch wore a very similar pantsuit as their last encounter, complete with the same sleek ponytail, and with that same purse to her lips that mussed up her pretty features. Only a brief flit of emotion danced when the two young women's eyes met, but if she thought anything, it was carefully covered with coveted professionalism.

Elodie could only hope, her memories did not stain her cheeks either.

"Ma'am," was directed towards Matialli, who immediately stepped forward. Elodie sank back. "If you don't mind, there's someone who wants a word with you?"

"Is there an issue?"

"No, just going over a couple of...legalities. Should only take a moment or two." Patch's eyes moved to meet Elodie's again. That time, there was a glint of concern in them, but she moved so quickly, she couldn't interpret what that could possibly mean. "I'm sorry, I can't - you can just take a seat, or-"

"-I'll wait here. No worries." Already, she was sinking into a nearby bench, and waving away the people around. "I'll be fine. Have fun."

Matialli hesitated for a second, looking down with her hawk-like gaze. But eventually she turned away and left with Patch, twin stomps of black pumps pounding down the tiled floors.

Elodie sighed and crossed her arms, leaning back against the cool wall. She didn't know what Patch's look had meant, but the way her voice had skipped over her otherwise smooth lie had not been missed by her. She could already guess what Matialli was meeting for -- a discussion of her client, Satan's own Archibald Morticelli. She wasn't involved with her father's affairs, she had made sure of that, but she knew enough to know that his 'business' connections would cushion him against whatever tribulations he faced.

Her eyes lifted from her lap to the clock across from her. It had only been a few minutes, but she felt the seconds heavier than she normally would. She usually would not mind waiting, it was a good way to calm her always fraying nerves, but that day she actually did have somewhere to be.

And, someone to lie to.

Diego had called her that morning, just as she was rushing about looking for her tights. He asked if she worked, and she said no, without thinking, leaving too much opening for his next question.

"Great. Can I come by?"

Elodie had caught herself before answering too quickly. She had glanced about rapidly, searching for a lie in her messy apartment. "Uh -- no, I'm -- I have errands to run downtown. I won't be home until the afternoon."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I'm, uh...going shopping."

His tone had turned teasing then, poking at her shitty lie. "Are you, now?"

"Yes, I am."

"For what?"

"Oh...uh, whatever...ha, you know me..."

"Not as well as I thought, if you're willingly spending your day off downtown."

"Ha, ha." Damn her for letting him know her too well. Or knowing her well at all. "But, yeah, I have to take the bus down soon, so--"

"--are you busy later?"

"Why?" She question, "you miss me that much?"

"Ha. You wish."

"Well, it's a little hard to deny it when you're hitting me up in the afternoon. Either you're looking for a place to hide, or you miss me. I'm gonna go for the latter," she had teased.

And in normal situations, she would have pushed that a little harder, flirted more, teased him like she had no interest of her own in him. But time was ticking and she had to move their talk along, so she scrambled.

"Are you out of better options?"

"Better options? What's that mean?"

"You're not denying..."

"...trust me, you're a pretty damn good option."

Her face had burned, at that.

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Uh - no, I'm good."

"You got a ride?"

"Um, no, I just - it's not far and I got the bus."

"Downtown's on the way to your place for me anyways. You don't have to take the bus."

And Elodie, for some strange reason, had actually said yes.

Somewhat. She had at least some common sense to not announce where she would be, but not enough to insist on the bus, leaving her just a small window to get to their 'meeting point' before time was up. She could not very well ask him to pick up where she really was, unless she wanted to shoot herself in the foot herself -- but had yet found herself too lost in the offer to remember how these 'meetings' always went.

Elodie gnawed at her lip. She had still loads of time before she had to leave, and besides -- an emergency exit was sort of easy, when your father was up for assault and battery. The claim of emotional distress, and whatnot. She tried to calm herself with that reminder, but it didn't help much.

Finally the sound of heels clicking returned, and around the corner came Patch and Matialli. The latter smiled thinly at Elodie, but her eyes drifted over to the younger woman. Patch didn't bother to hide her own feelings over what had just happened; disgust and a little anger stained her once blank face.

And Elodie knew exactly what that meeting had been for.

Matialli gestured forward. "Are we ready to go?"

The young woman glanced once more at the clock and rose. "As long as you are, yes."

ELODIE WAS RUNNING. 

Well, perhaps that was not the right word for it. It was more of a sloppy, stumbling jog as she rushed down the sidewalk, slipping on every possible piece of ice in her path. She tried to ignore the strange looks and mumbles that shot her way, people in proper winter attire questioning just what on earth this woman in roughed-up heels was doing scampering away from the jail. Perhaps they thought she was a poor excuse for an escapee, or just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Unfortunately, Elodie had no time to consider the people around her. Or frankly anything more than the fact that she was running very, very, very late.

She had half a mind to rip her heels off and run in her tights. And she would have, had the streets not become so crowded and so many would question her, not knowing the safety precautions she had against frostbitten toes. So she continued, nearly snapping her ankles at every step and cursing every time she tripped. She didn't bother to wipe at the tears on her cheeks or the hair whipping about her head like a crown of brunette thorns, just ploughed through the gawkers and dalliers and begged to the universe that she hadn't just screwed herself over.

She finally reached the cafe and slowed to a brisk pace. Elodie wiped angrily at her cheeks, willing the tears to dissipate under her angry fingers. She watched him pull up to the curb and in a brief moment of pure insanity, decided to take her shoes off for the final sprint.

Her thick nylons pounded against the pavement, ripping under the pebbles and ice. She didn't care, though. She didn't even look to see him watching her. Her only goal was to get into the car.

"'Sup," she heaved, practically falling into his passenger seat. She avoided his gaze still, leaning forward as she caught her breath. "Thanks...for the...ride!"

"Girl," he chuckled, confusion in his eyes, "what were you just doing?"

Elodie leant back against the seat, heaving in one more heavy gust of air to fill her aching lungs. She tried to smile, but she feared it wasn't as strong as she wished it could be. "Oh...I told you. Just shopping."

"Uh-huh," Diego grinned, "you said that, but I really doubt a sensible person like you would run around these streets in heels in the dead of winter shopping at -- there's nothing here but a pizza shop and that pawn store. You showin' up to Di Toni's dressed like that?"

Elodie shrugged, still struggling to still her racing heart. Her hands twisted and writhed in her lap. "M'not that dressed up."

"You look like a real estate agent." He began to start the car up, glancing once her way before rumbling forward. "A hot one, sure, but a little too fancy to sell your family jewels and eat crap pizza."

Elodie only faked a laugh to that.

The car ride was silent, five minutes of her trying not to die from either a heart attack or lung combustion. And Diego, well he was glancing over to her the entire way, but at least he didn't push her to say anything else. Though it sure seemed like he wanted to.

Once they reached her apartment and he pulled into the same parking spot he always got, though, he moved quickly. When Elodie snapped her seatbelt off and moved to leave, Diego flung an arm out and shot a 'no' before she could protest.

"Huh?"

"Just...hold on."

"For what?"

"Just wait there!" 

He was out the door before she could say another word.

Elodie watched as he stumbled over her side and pulled the door open. She was already ready to get out, her heels back on her aching feet, but he once more stopped her in her tracks.

"What are you doing?"

And in the strangest twist of fate, Diego half-kneeled in in the snow and held out his arms, awkwardly hovering. 

"Come here."

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?!"

"I don't know what it looks like! That's why I asked!"

Diego rolled his eyes, coming a bit closer to her and the car. "I'm gonna help you out. C'mere."

"You're nuts."

"Says the woman who just ran in heels in sub-zero weather!"

"So what?"

Elodie moved to step out on her own, but he stopped her in her tracks. "You're gonna break your neck on the ice. I watched you hobble to my car, you're not gonna make it to your building."

She hesitated, shifting her gaze from him to her surroundings. He had a point. They were about to wade through snow and ice from where he had parked on the street (the cons of not owning a parking spot) and realistically, her feet would be torn to shreds on the trip. She didn't care much about the cold, but...

With great reluctantly, Elodie complied. She stepped out of the car and allowed him to lift her up. His hands cradled her knees and her back, with her own wrapping around his neck for support. Elodie's face burned every step of the way, and the back of her mind questioned how on earth he was even planning on carrying her all that way --

-- and yet, once he was holding her, Diego didn't looked phased by the weight at all.

"Damn, Robin Hood," she mumbled. "I knew you were strong, but..."

He glanced down at her with a smirk, his face mere centimetres from her own. "But...?"

And for a brief moment, Elodie forgot everything except for how very pretty Diego looked in the light of the icy sun. She leaned up in his arms and pressed the briefest of kisses against his jaw, not missing how he chased her lips as she pulled away.

"But nothing," she smirked. "Just...maybe I should'a played into that damsel in distress card a little."

And he laughed.

They hobbled down the block and over to the apartment door. Elodie's bravery had vanished with that same kiss, and she had resorted to pressing her face into his coat, mumbling something about how utterly humiliating this all was. Diego hadn't seemed phased by it, but she certainly was -- she didn't speak to any of the other tenants, but they had seen her enough to know her face, and she had no interest in being associated with this very image.

"You good?"

She shifted her face just a little, peeking around the black fabric. "Everyone I live with is gonna think -- I don't even know what they're gonna think."

Diego chuckled. The laugh vibrated against her own self, in a not-uncomfortable way. She leant in a little more. "They're gonna think that a gorgeous guy's being a gentleman and carrying in his semi-attractive--" he yelped as her hand smacked at his shoulder, then cried out again when the door hit him too. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

"Asshole!"

"I'm just joking," he laughed, holding her close once again. "Anyone with eyes can see you're the much prettier one."

Elodie had not expected that from him. Never was he so forward, especially not in public. Sure, he had given her compliments, but not so freely and without looking like he even considered the words. Sure, it was offhand and it had started with a joke, but...

She fell quiet then and just focused on them moving forward. She had thought he would set her down at the elevators and readied herself for it, but instead, he only held her tighter. They slipped into the elevator and stood awkwardly against the rail, opposite a man and a child riding up with them.

Elodie hid her face completely in Diego's jacket, but she could still hear the kid's questions and the man's soft snickers. 

Once they were out on her floor, she scrambled out of his arms ungracefully. She adjusted her purse and her risen skirt, face aflame and heart pounding harder than ever. 

"You okay?"

"I, uh - yeah. Thanks."

Diego grinned, grazing a hand over her lower back teasingly before continuing forward. "Anytime."

Right. As if she'd go through that again.

"I should probably get you a key," she mused, trying to lighten her quickly-failing mood. "Considering how often you come."

"You think I need a key?"

Elodie shot him a faux glare as the lock clicked. "I don't want you using my damn window, Robin Hood. It's sketchy! What if someone thinks you're breaking in?"

"No one ever sees me--"

"--but they could!"

"So?"

"So, I'm going to ban you from coming over if you use the window again," she warned, jabbing a finger into his coat. She shrugged her own jacket off, shivering. "I mean that."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me, bitch."

He snorted but held back, watching her move into the apartment in her soft, nylon-padded feet. She waited for him to eventually follow her into the kitchen, smiling at him as she filled the kettle for her usual tea. "You want some?"

"What?"

"Tea. You want some?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah, sure."

He sounded distant then, like in a matter of seconds his mind had gone to a completely different place. Elodie tried not to consider it as anything, but it was hard when before he had been grinning and so quick to flirt -- it was hard to keep a positive mood when the one person who made her feel that way had gone grim.

She shifted her weight, holding a little tighter to the kettle trembling in her grasp. Her smile remained plastered across her lips, but it was pulled a little too thin, and she fretted he would see right through it somehow. So she avoided his gaze and bustled about quietly, working on preparing the tea and avoiding the dark eyes that could read her very soul.

Finally, Diego broke the silence. "You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah."

Their eyes met, and she felt herself melt under his soft gaze. She really did love his eyes, Elodie mused to herself -- if only they weren't so good at seeing through her.

Elodie glanced away and forced her smile to grow again. "Tea'll be done soon, if--"

"--you weren't shopping today."

"I -- what?"

Diego peeled off the wall, taking a step towards her. She slid back. "I'm not stupid. And I know you, you're not the type'a person to go anywhere on a 'day off' without a good reason. And especially dressed like that."

Elodie glanced down at her skirt and wrinkled blouse, and wished she could just burn the clothes right then and there. "You know, I'm just trying something new."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Okay, Diego, I--" she cut herself off that time, realising that she had risen to his incredulity with anger, anger that pulsed with heat through her veins. He didn't deserve her rage, her frustrations, none of that. Not when he had only been kind to her.

She hung her head. Steam billowed off their two tea cups, and she watched as it swirled up towards her yellowed ceiling. Elodie wished she could do the same.

"You're right. I wasn't -- I had a real reason to go downtown today."

She paused, mulling over every single word before,

"but I can't tell you why."

"Why not?"

"Because--" once more she hesitated. Her hands wrung the edge of the blouse, so tight she knew it would leave a mark. "I just can't. It's...not something I can just...share."

Diego stepped forward again. Elodie didn't shrink away that time, but she didn't acknowledge it. She just watched his socked feet move closer and waited for the yelling to start. For him to get angry, for him to curse her out or call her a thousand names and --

"--you know about me, how shitty my family is. Was. Whatever."

"Yeah. I know."

"And you..." he sighed, the sound heavy in the tiny space. "You know about me. I trust you with all that, but I...I feel like I don't know shit about you."

Elodie felt her lower lip tremble. She bit down on it and urged it to still. "That's not fair."

"I know. And I'm not trying to make you tell me. I just..." once more, he breathed out. "I felt like we were getting c-closer, but every time, you just p-p...pull away from m-m-me."

That hit harder than anything else. And with the quiver to his own voice, and how he stuttered over the last words, Elodie was left frozen against the counter, staring at her feet and wondering how in the hell she could have done this to herself.

It was her own fault, after all -- wasn't it? She could have avoided all of this. And if she had needed the touch, she should have kept personal details far away from it. Never let him in, never asked about him, never let him pick her up as she ran from her estranged father and the lawyer she was wasting all her money on. She knew that too, but it had been so good and he had been so sweet, hell he was still so sweet, and she --

-- she couldn't let him know the truth about the monstrosities she kept inside.

Her hands lifted almost by themselves, grabbing at the shmata she had left on the counter and clinging to it. The cold, wet cloth didn't do much, but it was something. She needed at least something 'for she burned the whole damn place down.

Thunder echoed in the distance. She wasn't sure if it was real or not.

"You have to know," Elodie finally said, voice hardly above a whisper, "that I'm not keepin' it from you because I don't trust you." It's cause she didn't trust herself. "And I...I trust you, and I like what we have. And it's because of that...I've never told anyone much about me. Not unless they're living that shit with me."

His voice had grown low, and soft, as the moments had grown on. Not hard like she had expected, not angry or upset but just-- "Okay."

Confused, her head lifted, finally looking at him. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." He cleared his throat. "I get it. But if you need to talk, I mean...I'm here."

She set down the shmata and let her hands hang loose. "Thank you, Diego."

"Yeah."

"I'm really sorry. I want to tell you, I just--"

"--it's okay," he interrupted, soft and a little sad. The corners of his lips twitched up into a sort of smile. "Nothing to worry about. I get it."

He stepped back and disappeared around the corner, leaving Elodie with the two teacups and a whole lot more questions than she had before. She stood frozen for a long moment, her hands trembling and burning by her sides. That hadn't been what she expected. No one...he hadn't yelled, not like she had thought. And, strangely enough, he hadn't left.

With a jolt, she realised she had just been standing there, and Elodie snapped back into action. Thirty seconds later her hands were cold and a little damp, carrying the mugs out to the living room, where he sat. She set them down and sank into the couch herself.

"Are we good?"

"Yeah."

She pursed her lips, leaning back into the worn fabric. "If you say so."

"And I do. There's nothing wrong," he half-smiled, and she wished she could take that for what it was.

Elodie's heart sank a little more.

Diego moved closer to her and for a moment, she wasn't sure what he wanted. But then instead of what she expected, his right arm rose and swung around her body, tentatively resting it around her.

She sat still under his hold, trying to regulate her breathing from its unsteady rhythm. He hadn't ever really done that, the casual romantic pull-into his side. They were fast and unspeaking and gentle if necessary, but never just on a whim.

Despite herself, Elodie leant into the embrace. "Diego?"

He tightened his hold around her. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yep."

"Well...alright."

"Is this not okay?"

"No."

"It's not? I-"

"-no!" she retorted, and let out a soft laugh as his arm slid back. "It's okay. It's nice, actually. Wasn't expecting this, but...s'nice."

"Yeah. Okay."

Elodie glanced up, before sinking back into him. Her head fell to his shoulder and laid still, warm against his sweater. In the back of her head she realised he hadn't worn his harness that day, that he was bare...and she remembered that it was because of everything of today and that it wasn't even dust yet. 

Their tea sat undrunk on her crappy table, slowly growing cold. They both ignored it.

Diego's words came back to her again, hitting her hard enough to make her throat fill with bile. He had never sounded so tender, and so...she didn't even know what to call the emotion, it was so unfamiliar. But the way his voice had broke and stumbled and how unsure he was to even mention how close they had become, because of how distant of a person she was, tugged at her heartstrings so desperately that it hurt.

For so long, no one had really given a shit about her, not in person. Not her own father or any of the people she had brought to her bed, or the tentative relationships she had tried to build when her heart had hurt the most. And Diego...

A tear dripped down her face, falling silently to her blouse. Another joined it quickly, then another.

She wanted this. Wanted him. And it was selfish and cruel and she knew that she was a liar and had shut him out too much for it to be allowed, but she wanted it anyways.

A few minutes later, with her face streaked with silver tears and flushed, Elodie spoke.

"Do you...have plans, tonight?"

"Uh, no. Why?"

Elodie shifted once on the couch, sucking in a breath and hoping that she could steel herself. "I--"

--and it was then that the reality of everything really hit, and she was left drowning, sobbing freely without a care. She saw his alarmed eyes in the blur, but could not even register her actions as she broke down. All that she could get out was a very muffled, "I don't wanna be alone," before she entirely collapsed.

At once then his arms were around her, pulling her in so she was half on his lap and only her legs dangled off the couch. His hands pressed into her hair and back and rubbed at them gently even as her sobs shook them. Her head rested against his sweater shoulder and stained it with all the tears that had been kept in for so long.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, hiccupping through the tears. "I'm...so... sorry..."

And all Diego said to that was a gentle 'shh', and was the person she had been so many times for her; letting her cry into his shoulder, pressed against him as though he was the only rock in the ocean threatening to drown her out. His hands were unsure at times, but also tender, mimicking a pattern that his 'mother' had had for him, years ago. 

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Elodie cried with someone there to hold her.

EDITED NOTE -- This chapter :'))))

I love my babies. But also, of course, they're still so flawed and this chapter especially highlights their communication issues -- which are like valid, considering how much deep-set trauma the both of them have -- but that'll be important for later on. 

Thank you for reading; let me know what you thought!