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Lorey jumped once more when he hit the wall so hard. She was beginning to fear for herself, until his frustrated voice began telling her what she had asked him about. What she hadn't expected, though, were photos. Ones that told the story too well.

She picked them up like pieces of glass, first the one of Rose as she should have been remembered.
"Your Rose is beautiful," she said after studying her face for a minute or two. So, this was his first wife. The one she could never be or live up to, or so she felt. Lorey thought her eyes were beautiful in color and shape, holding a certain relaxed happiness. She flipped to the other photo.

And nearly fainted.

But she wouldn't. Lorey wouldn't cry, either, not then. Although her eyes didn't study that one for that long (in fact, she soon put it right back under the first photo), she understood the horror.
"I've... seen a lot of blood, too," Lorey said before swallowing hard. "Neighbors fighting, people getting stabbed... that sort of thing usually happens in the south s-slums."

Her soft steps brought her in front of Richard, to whom she gave the photos back, even if she wanted to burn the one. Lorey even sat down right in front of him so that she could focus on him better, and look at him as they exchanged stories.

Lorey listened with patient eyes, not saying anything until he was sure he was done. He had wanted to be a father... but that desire was probably ruined now, especially since they had fought twice about staying together, saying the same things, Richard mostly saying how he was terrible for her. If he felt he couldn't be a proper boyfriend or whatever he was to her, surely his dreams of being a father were dead.

Her hand reached out to his face to wipe away the damp that still clung from his stray tears. Finally she knew what had happened, for the most part. Finally. All that honesty nagged at her, demanding some of her own. Richard had told his story... now she should tell hers.

Lorey moved so that she was sitting right next to him, right up against him. Where to begin, she thought.

"I... was born in the General hospital in the center of the city. My father had enough money to pay for the bill then. My mother and him had been together for awhile, so I suppose she must have felt that they would always be that way in order to have me..."
All of her memories were being pushed to the front, though it was difficult to bring them to an order. She would try, though, so Richard would know as much as he could.

"He said the slum apartment was just temporary, because he would buy them a house. But he only stayed in the apartment for two days before leaving my mother. I guess he just needed to make sure he had a place to dump us. So, she was alone, with a baby, and no way of taking care of me. But she wouldn't give me up... mom always said she couldn't be mad at him because he had given her me."
That made her smile. Lorey leaned her head against his shoulder, hoping some of that little happiness would reach into him somehow.

"I was taken care of by an older woman while my mom went out to work. Her name was Miss Erentine, and she died from old age when I was five. By that time, my mom had taken to locking me into the apartment while she went to work. Stay on the bed, she'd say. Only get up to use the bathroom, but always comeback to the bed and stay there. That was how it worked until I was ten and old enough to go to work with her..."

"We'd do what we had to. Life was pretty grim in the slums to begin with. Gang fights, dog fighting... I made friends with a kitten, but the boys ended up killing it. They thought it was fun. My mom, though, she always gave me hope by telling me that this cruelty could be dispelled by people like us. By people with love in their hearts... and somehow we did manage to keep that alive. We'd play with soap bubbles when people weren't watching. She knew I loved watching the iridescence before they popped."

But suddenly Lorey's voice took on a sadness that hadn't been there before.
"When I was sixteen, the police came with my mother's ring, told me a story and that they were sorry, and left. I had a boyfriend then who took me in for awhile... but eventually he tried to make me... well. I wasn't ready, he hit me, and I think it horrified him so much that he left me, too. So I was alone. I took up both my mother's work and my own. Things still happened. I was almost raped in an alley way, but something scared him off so badly that I managed to get back to my apartment. Other than that, everything seemed to be working out, until around the time you found me outside of the Ballroom. I'd been losing jobs, and couldn't make payments simply because I didn't have enough."

Lorey's blue eyes had shut while she was deep in thought.
"I'm not so sure what would have happened if I hadn't met you. I always tried not to end up like Raquel... But... I think I was almost ready to, just so I could live."

It was silent, so silent. Lorey understood that there was little else to say except for, "I love you."
She carefully climbed sideways onto his lap and put her arms around his neck where her face was soon buried. They hadn't really ever just curled up together for the sake of being close, though they'd been close before.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry that all that was taken from you." A few silent tears of her own were shed for his sake, though maybe one was for herself. Thinking back to the terrible experience of being thrown from the ballroom made her realize how up until that point, she had rarely cried. Now that she had Richard, tears were coming more often, but it was so much better than keeping them all inside where they ate away at her like acid.

What stabbing pain Richard had felt during their first kiss, Lorey felt right then as she was rocked and hummed to. It was that breaking of sadness that made her heart wrench and heave a deep sigh. Loved, she was loved, and safe, and protected. And all by someone who was not herself.

"I love you, too, darling." Having her hand at a little name for him made her smile, though her face was still buried against him. Maybe he could feel her lips turn upward, maybe not, but the smile was in her voice nonetheless.

"Tell me something about yourself," she said as the silence began to become too pressing for her. She didn't like quiet, probably because of all those years being left alone in the apartment until someone came back to let her know everything was alright.
"Or I'll start. I like daisies. I think they're the friendliest flower."

Seeing as they now knew everything sad and hopeless about each other, she realized they really didn't know much about the happy, little things that made them who they were.

Lorey's cheeks blushed, but she loved the feeling. She loved rubbing her nose against his, stealing little kisses here and there. She just loved him.
"I don't know what daisies mean... but what else do we like?" Lorey gave him another little kiss as she thought. "I like... I like those little lemon cookies that come in the yellow package."
Any little thing that came to her mind was subject to being said, thogh it was hard as she hadn't had much time to enjoy herself over the years. Everything had been work, and nothing more.

**Aw! D: **

Lorey looked down at her hands. They bothered her, so much. Had she ever told him that?
"I... I never liked my hands... always rough, sometimes they crack... the cleansers would sting them."
Lorey shook her head, and looked up at him as she became more and more comfortable sitting with him in this lovely way.

"I love saying your name. Richard. It sounds noble. And I love the way you just pick me up sometimes because I'm tired. I love when you smile, because you've got this big grin when you do..." Lorey had to smile herself just thinking about it. "I love your eyes, too. Even when they look sad, they're beautiful."