Their doll 2

53- Battle

Sitting through the longest forty minutes car ride of my life, the whole entire trip from the Château to Chris's place, I sat in the passenger seat, crying in silence. I rested my head against the car's window, tears falling nonstop. Taking in the view of the city skyline at night as we got closer to the destination, I breathed a sigh of relief, watching the car pull up in front of the gleaming tower that sparkled under the moonlight.

I wiped away my residual drying tears from my cheeks, using the back of my hand. Ignoring Christ's wondering eyes, I stepped off his car and soon, he joined me. Together, we entered the building and the people at the reception desk automatically recognized Chris. A well-dressed butler approached us and Chris handed him his car key in a crisp mix of kindness and professionalism manner. Then, we continued to walk way down the hallway and finally got to the elevator. We took it up to floor number ten, where I supposed Chris's apartment was located.

Once, we had arrived at the destination floor, the lights automatically turned on as we walked down the hallway and continued all the way to the end. We stopped in front of a large, very solid and fancy-looking door. Chris reached into his back pocket, took out a small keychain, and used the silver key to unlock the door.

"Come." He held the door open for me like a true gentleman. I moved past him to get inside and the moment the bottom of my heels touched the carpeted floor, I instantly felt safe.

"Make yourself at home." Chris said, letting the door fall shut behind him before he moved toward the kitchen which basically connected to the main living room where I was standing in.

"Something to drink?"

I shook my head, politely and followed his hand gesture, stepping further into his living room, toward the couch.

I plopped down lifelessly, kicked off my heels and a low groan involuntarily escaped me. Tucking my sore feet under my butt, I sat on them. Grabbed one of the pale-blue cushions adorning the couch and hugged it close to my chest, craving some sense of comfort.

A few monents later, Chris joined me in the living room.

"Water." He said, placing a highball glass almost full with ice cubes and a little bit of transparent liquid on the coffee table before he walked around the couch to sit down at the other end.

No more than ten minutes went by, Chris finally asked, keeping his tone empty of everything but mild curiosity.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He sounded casual. Given that ninety nine percent of the time, this is how our conversation normally started. I bet he had gotten used to seeing me break down, and acting all agitated and weird. After all, It's not my fault. He always seems to catch me in the right place and at the right time. It was if he could sense a siren in the air, warning him that something bad was about to happen to me.

Wearily, I looked at Chris and wasn't surprise to see he was already staring at me.

"I owed you." I mumbled, feeling everything and thankful.

"You owed me nothing but an explanation." He summed. Then gradually, he began sliding closer, "What was that all about?"

A combination of pain and wonderment swirling in the depths of his eyes.

"Be honest with me. Please." He pleaded.

I swallowed hard, breaking the eye contact.