|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2016 6:11 pm
The sketch had found a new home under the slip of her binder where she had put it for school. She thought it was weird to be attached to something so simple and stupid, and she always thought about throwing it away.
And she would never admit that she had taken the Christmas money from Chase, and had bought a used laptop and hooked it up to the shop's wifi....to read his story. She could tell it was Fritz art, from the little doodles she had from him, but the story just didn't seem to fit the man at all.
She wondered who Fritz's twin was.
Anyways, the sketch sat in her binder, which was piled on her work area as she finished what little homework she had. The shop was quiet, and no customers had trickled in.
and Luckily, neither had her father. She enjoyed the silence as she focused on the work she felt was unnecessary.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 7:56 am
He felt sick.
Every step taken was one of immense effort, Fritz's legs unsteady as he dragged them forward. At some point in time - he didn't remember when - he'd powered down, and his hair hung lank and limp against his pale, drawn face, sweat beading on his forehead.
A hand was pressed to his stomach, where a bruise lay, ugly and purpling, beneath the fabric of his shirt. A splotch of dark red lay just the fringe of his hair, against his temple, that looked horribly like blood, and there were shadows beneath Fritz's eyes, hollowing out his face.
He didn't know where he was going, what he was doing. His feet had carried him, unintentionally, not back to his loft, but further downtown. It was as though his mind had known that the emptiness of his residence would only make things worse, and Fritz now found himself at a semi-familiar building instead.
Here? Out of all the places to have stumbled, it was...here?
She wouldn't want to see him, he knew that. And yet his hazy mind still seemed to carry him forward, Fritz walking slowly towards the door and pushing it open. He tried to stand up straighter, tried to look as though it was merely a coincidence, that he'd come to the shop on purpose.
And there she was, at the work station. A strained, forced smile was on Fritz's lips as he eased out a breath.
"Hey," he said, as casually as possible.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 7:38 pm
She drew a jagged line across the page, her head turning slowly though her heart raced. She hadn't prepared for anyone, in the quiet of the night. Chase wasn't here to protect her either, so she was on her own.
The voice was a bit strained, but she could recognize it for Fritz, and her hands laid the mechanical pencil down carefully.
"Hello Fritz." She cocked her head, then looked over his shoulder. "No bike?" Another one of his social calls it seemed. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at him.
Pale blue eyes that took in every line and forced smile and....gautness. Fritz looked terrible, but she wasn't about to be telling him the obvious. "Would you like something to drink?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2016 9:25 pm
She didn't - well, look exactly disappointed to see him, but she didn't look happy either. Fritz stood in the doorway of the shop with his hand still pressed against his stomach, and offered Regan a strained smile that didn't quite reach all the way to his eyes.
"No bike," he said, a little hoarsely. "I, er..."
He heaved a breath and then exhaled it. "A drink...would be nice, yes."
He took a step forward, but his legs would not stand; and a second later there was a slight crash as Fritz collapsed to the ground, his breathing ragged as he pressed a palm to the floor, trying in vain to push himself back up again. The world spun unpleasantly around him.
"Bloody hell - "
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2016 11:27 am
She wasn't particularly disappointed, but she had been looking forward to the elusive bike of his brothers. Since there was none, there was no reason for her really to expect it. Instead, she closed the workbook she had been doing and then got up.
Moving slowly, she reached under one of the work stations, into a mini fridge to pull out a water bottle when she heard the crash.
She didn't particularly rush over to him, but warily circled until she was in front of him, bending down slowly. "Are you..." okay? feeling well? What's wrong? Things like this didn't come out of her mouth. Things that were caring and nice...those weren't her. "Drunk?" She could handle that, so long as he didn't get violent. She didn't think he would, but everyone was different after drinks.
She reached carefully to take his head, lifting it up and resting it on her lap. "You shouldn't be drinking if you can't hold your liqour, Fritz." She didn't smell anything though, so her hand went to his forehead, brushing red locks from skin. "Are you sick?" The water bottle was applied to his neck, in case he was more feverish then she felt.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 11:42 am
He wondered dimly if this would make Regan dislike him even more than she already did. Fritz's stomach twisted unpleasantly as he half pushed himself up on an elbow, his hair falling about his pale face, his breathing more labored than it should have been.
And it was pathetic, really. He was a grown man, collapsing on the floor of a car repair place. Fritz felt the burn of humiliation across his cheeks, and he closed his eyes, his fingers curling against the inside of his palm as he struggled to get control over his nausea and dizziness.
He heard footsteps around him, slow and uncertain. She had not run to his aid, and he hadn't expected her to.
"No," said Fritz, a little hoarsely, and shook his head, biting his lip as he squeezed his eyes shut once more. "No. I'm not drunk, I'm just..."
Pathetic. Inadequate. A mistake.
Worthless.
Except hands were touching his head unexpectedly, and quite suddenly, Fritz found himself resting in Regan's lap. His eyes flew open, his expression shifting from one of pained embarrassment to one of bemusement, his brows drawing together as he stared up at her.
The water - and her fingers - felt cool against his too warm skin.
"I'm not drunk," said Fritz at last, and eased out a breath, his body tense as he lay there. "I'm just..."
He didn't know what to say. He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering.
" - got into a fight I didn't intend to," he murmured finally, because it was sort of an explanation and not one at all at at the same time.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 1:20 pm
There was a great many things that Regan could say. Concern, oddly was at the highest of her list, but she was still working on trying not to....care. It was becoming a struggle in her feelings. She knew she would never truly care, and that was something she held on to.
But as Fritz looked up at her, pale and tired and weak, her hear fluttered and she looked away, focusing her eyes on something more then his green depth.
"You got into a fight." She scoffed. "You don't seem to be the fighting type, Fritz?" She brushed his hair away again and then started to casually look over for injuries, she didn't move though, should it jar him. "Hit to the head? I have aspirin, but it's up in my apartment." She was clearly hesitating with the offer, but she couldn't just leave him like this on her uncle's repair shop floor. It was easy, on a quiet night like this, to just lock up and close.
"I'll help you up, but let me close the shop really quick."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 1:55 pm
He knew he was probably making her feel uncomfortable. Regan was not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, and from the start she'd just pushed him away even as he'd tried to keep pushing at her. It was a terrible, shameful feeling in the pit of his stomach, reminding him of just how pathetic he was that he kept trying to make a friendship work that was never going to.
"I'm not," said Fritz, and the touch of her fingers, surprisingly gentle as they moved his hair away, made him exhale a long breath, his eyes still closed. He swallowed hard against the pain in his chest, a shudder running through him. "I didn't...it wasn't intentional."
It never was.
There was a bruise on his temple, but it wasn't as bad as the one hidden under his shirt, spreading across his ribcage. Fritz eased out another breath and finally opened his eyes once more, looking up at Regan silently from his position.
He wondered whether or not she had any more bruises of her own.
"Okay," he said, and closed his eyes again. "I'll just...lay here then, while you do that. If you. Don't mind."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 2:19 pm
Regan noticed the bruise, now that she was looking for it, but she didn't try to pry any other part of his clothing open to see more damage. She could, at least, assure herself that he wasn't lying. With no smell of alcohol and drugs, it was safe to say he probably was on the wrong end of someone's fist.
Maybe a mugger? She felt angry that he would be needlessly attacked. She shrugged off her sweater and started to fold it, so she could replace it under his head while she slid out.
"I don't mind. You aren't going to be moving anyways." She said it so bluntly, it was hard to tell if she was serious or if like...she'd come back. But she was serious and she went about closing down the shop, flipping the sign and locking every door religiously tight. Should Fritz attacker, or god forbid, her father, come here. Then she returned to him and offered a hand.
"We can go upstairs from inside the shop. Small elevator." Which was more like industrial elevator with the cage, but it was big enough for two people and she really only used it when she needed to take parts up. Fritz was a lot lighter then parts, so she didn't think the rusty thing would break down.
Once he was up, she made sure to nestle against his side as a support. Especially since she couldn't drag him.
"What's the other guy look like?" Again, hard to tell if joke or if serious.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 03, 2016 12:44 pm
He let out a slightly hoarse laugh, his head spinning slightly as she shifted out from beneath him and exchanged her knees for her sweater. Fritz put a hand up to his forehead as she worked, rubbing idly at his throbbing head, closing his eyes momentarily.
There was something surreal about lying here and listening to the sounds of Regan moving around. Little clicks as she flicked off switches, soft thumps of footsteps, a rustle of paperwork, and the telltale snap of a lock being turned in a door - several of them.
Surreal, and strangely...reassuring. How long had it been since he'd heard such simple things? Ever since Tolliver had moved out, the loft had felt too large, too empty, too silent. There hadn't been the casual noises of someone else inhabiting the place.
Just himself. Alone. As always.
Fritz opened his eyes and saw Regan above him once more, her hand outstretched. He reached up and, after a moment's hesitation, wrapped his fingers around hers and eased himself slowly up, wincing at every movement, a swell of nausea rising in his throat.
"Right," he murmured, his throat feeling painful as he swallowed. He loosely draped an arm around Regan's shoulders and allowed himself to be guided towards the elevator in question.
"Dark hair," said Fritz, after a moment. "In black. I think."
He offered her a wan smile, tired. "It was dark outside."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 03, 2016 5:41 pm
"Helpful, Fritz." She murmured at his description. "I'm guess no police right?" For all the good they could do, with Fritz's injuries, he should really be dealing with police and hospitals. He could have a concussion...Could start spasming in her arms right now.
She was definitely troubled by the idea of it, but also understood the need for just...silence. While he knew the tip of her problems, she was sure that the reason he felt safe with her was because of it.
It was disconcerting.
"They wait till it's dark for just that reason." She pressed the button and shifted him carefully.
"Is there any other damage? I'll sit you up on my couch, but if you have something worst, tell me now." She let blue eyes drift up. "I can at least wrap you up if its worst..." The elevator ride was quick and painless, coming to a rusty stop on her floor and she half carried him over to the small abode that was her living room. A large blue couch with plump pillows was about the nicest object in her living room. A desk filled with small toy models and pieces was stuck in the corner, with just enough room for the chair that was buried underneath it. Next to it was one of the probably a late 90's model of tv with bunny ears.
There wasn't much color besides the blue sofa. A small painting of white flowers was on the wall, but it blended with the blinding white paint.
"Here you go. I'll get you the pills and water, then we'll do some damage control." She, as gently as she could, dumped him on to the couch.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 5:55 am
He would have shaken his head, but the dizziness prevented him, and he gave a small, rueful smile that did not entirely reach his eyes. "No police," Fritz murmured, and the guilt and the shame kept welling, twisting, curling sickeningly inside of his stomach.
He shouldn't do this to her. Regan was an innocent bystander, and he'd seen - had guessed - what might be happening to her, and it made inexplicable frustration burn through him, nausea in his throat. And yet he'd still come, was still being a burden to someone he hardly knew.
The first jerk of the elevator up made him flinch violently, Fritz letting out a small hiss of discomfort, tightening his arm instinctively around Regan's thin shoulders; but it leveled out rather quickly, and a sigh of relief ebbed out of him, eyes fluttering.
"I think...my ribs, or stomach," he mumbled, ignoring the hiss of whispers throughout his mind. "Somewhere down there hurts."
His gaze flickered around the room, but his head kept spinning, and he couldn't take it all in. Fritz found himself plunked down onto the sofa, perhaps a bit more gracelessly than it could have been, but he stretched out across it, a hand raising to press against his throbbing temple.
"Thank you," he murmured, opening his eyes to look up at her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 9:38 am
She didn't say much as she rustled through things, but soon enough she was hovering over him and without hesitation, pulled his shirt up.
Unlike herself, she would've been ashamed of the marks on her ribs, or the blue and black that were constant reminders that she was not in control. But the damage to Fritz was ugly and she looked down at it, worry and concern ebbed on her face in a rare moment.
Then it was gone, and she was back to being the usual Regan.
"Don't thank me yet." She gestured for him to take the rest of his shirt off. "Take these first." Painkillers were handed over, along with a water bottle. and then she got the witch hazel cream and set it down.
"You want to put it on or should I....?" Long slowest stare at Fritz.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 08, 2016 6:54 pm
He had not expected for her to just pull his shirt up.
Fritz jerked abruptly under her touch, his eyes widening. He'd pushed himself half up automatically, onto his elbows, and was now regretting this immediate movement, because his head was spinning dangerously, the nausea rising. For a few seconds, he just stared at her, almost incredulous.
For the briefest flicker of a moment, he saw the look in her eyes, the softening.
But then the moment was gone. Fritz's stomach was mottled blue and black, ugly bruises spreading up his ribcage. He eased himself back down onto the couch, ignoring the way that his chest was suddenly too tight, the way that his mind seemed too hazy.
The rest of his shirt came off, with a great deal of effort, Fritz wincing as he did so. The painkillers were swallowed quickly and efficiently, and then he looked back at Regan, his expression a little clouded.
He could, possibly, put it on himself. But...
"If you could, I'd be very grateful," said Fritz carefully.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2016 10:53 am
His shifting made her stare at him longer and while she should've expected his surprise, his reaction was well...funny. It was kind of funny. She didn't laugh, but it was a different thought to have then normal.
"This is the only time." She took a deep breath, even though she had given him the longest stare, and while she knew he was probably quite capable, sometimes the pain was just to much to bear.
She warmed the cream between her hands, and then splayed them against his stomach, lightly. Her gaze was focused and she was doing her best to treat him like she would one of her prized cars or models. Delicate and gently.
But as she spread over the bruises, she felt a tightening in her chest and a...anger? Embarassment? Sudden upsetness, and her face just dipped further into a frown.
She didn't like seeing these bruises. For no good damn reason. Picking fights? She could feel the sudden burst of anger rising up. At the man that had attacked Fritz, and at Fritz for...being Fritz.
"You are so stupid." She mumbled, "So so stupid. Picking fights, you're suppose to be an artist." She looked at him, "What would happen if he had broken your hand." She glared, "Then what?" You're so stupid Fritz."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
