Her fingers feel like they’re tearing as she clings to the cardboard box, and Pam wonders how his entire music collection accumulated on coffee tables and DVD cabinets in just a matter of a few months. She takes the stairs one step at a time, careful not to fall or lose her grip because even with all that’s happened, she still doesn’t want to damage his property.
She knocks on his door with her foot since she doesn’t trust herself to balance the box with one hand. Luckily he appears within a matter of seconds, and his eyes are that terrible shade of red she’s seen at work the past few days. He’s tired and quite possibly sick by the noticeable absence of color in his cheeks. She’s seen that look before, she sees it everyday glaring back at her in the mirror.
“I just, umm—you left these at my place.”
He nods and takes the box from her, and she can feel the blood rush through her hands. Even when he moves fully back into the apartment, she stands at the door awkwardly, wondering if that’s an invitation for her to come in or his subtle way of saying “get the hell out.” He takes the first few CDs from the top, inspecting them closely before pulling one out and facing her.
“This one’s yours.”
“Oh, it didn’t have a label on it so—“
“It’s that mixed CD I made you. Back when—“
“Right, yeah. I remember now.” She’s all the way inside now, with a window to her right that’s looking pretty good at the moment. Anything to just get out of the intense heat that’s settled in the room; suffocating and uncomfortable with only a flimsy fan whirring for relief. Summer is a terrible time to break up, she decides. From now on it’s only spring and fall because at least then you have some decent weather to cling to instead of this miserable, sweaty heat that makes everything you touch slip from your fingers.
“Do you want anything? I’ve got water and there might still be one of your Snapples left in the fridge.” She doesn’t know why that of all things brings on the tears; the thought of her juice, the kind he didn’t even like but still bought for her anyway, just sitting there, wondering why no one’s been around to pick it up in a week. She figures even raspberry iced tea must have noticed.
“No, I’m good. Thanks, though.” She turns from him and moves to the door, because she promised herself that he’d seen enough of her tears for a lifetime.
“See you at work,” she calls over her shoulder, hearing a soft “Bye Pa—“ as she shuts the door firmly behind her.
Story Notes:
I wrote this a couple weeks ago, the day before I left for vacation when I should have been packing. Now that I'm back, I can finally post it!
It's a little angsty, but give it a try :)
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A short chapter, but they eventually get longer.
Chapter End Notes:
I know I'm a bad person for having them broken up. The only way to tell me off is through reviews ;)
