A Place For Us

Chapter Twelve

Author's note: I do not own West Side Story or any element of it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Darcy shut the door to the apartment and let out a breath. The summer heat was getting to her each day as she climbed the flights of stairs to their home. The sun stayed in the sky endlessly now, and the days she spent at the station stretched out longer and longer. Each night seemed to get further away and she felt like she had to wait for hours until it was late enough for Riff to come by.

She walked into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee, yearning to keep herself awake.

As the water boiled she leaned against the stove. Her father had hardly spoken to her all day. Each time she walked past him she could feel his judgement and she hated it. She felt like she'd let him down. How could she get him to understand? How could she explain to him that her relationship with Riff was beyond her control at this point? That it was something otherworldly seemingly pushing or pulling them towards each other?

When her coffee was ready she walked towards her room. As she opened the door, she nearly dropped her cup when she saw Riff sitting at her desk, looking bored as he stared down at one of her books.

She quickly turned around and slammed the door shut. At the sound, he looked towards her and grinned, standing from his seat. She put down her drink and stormed at him.

"What are you doing in here?" she hissed, pressing him by his chest towards the window. "What if my Dad had come in, huh?!"

"I know he's workin' tonight," he replied, playfully. He dodged himself out of the way of her hands.

"Even so, you should go." She tugged on his arm but he stood steadfast.

"Why do you not want me in here so bad?" he asked, looking around the room. "Got other guys in here?"

"I wish." She stopped and let out a large sigh, placing her hands on her hips. "Look, Riff..."

"I know it's weird," he said, coming close and wrapping his arms around her. "You don't wanna piss your Dad off anymore than he already is. But he's gonna have to get used to it somehow. I'm sorry to say I'm here to stay."

She relented and rested her head on his chest, letting herself feel comforted.

"I got you somethin," he said, reaching into his pocket.

She looked down to see him pulling out a small rectangular box covered in dark blue velvet. It looked like something one might keep jewellery in. He popped it open and smiled at her confused expression when she saw it was empty.

"It's for your watch," he explained. "So you don't go losin' it when it's not on your wrist."

She took it from his hands and turned it over. It was lovely, but she felt an itch in her mind.

"Where did you get it?" she asked, rubbing the soft velvet under her thumb.

"From the pawn shop."

"Did you steal it?"

Riff let out a scoff and shrugged. "Maybe. Does that matter?"

"Yes, Riff. It does." She sighed and held the box back to him, feeling guilty and irresponsible all at once. "I don't want you to steal for me."

"I just wanted to get you somethin' nice," he replied, somewhat defensively. He also felt confused at her reaction.

"I appreciate that," she assured, placing her hand on his arm. "But I can't accept something that I know was stolen. And I don't need anything nice."