Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 14

On her way back to the office she was uncertain that Butcher would be there at all. It wasn't like she knew where he lived, she was going there with the hope that he would isolate there, and she could speak. There at least it would be easier not to get too close. If she were at home she'd be stuck judging everything, scared his home would be like the interior of his car. At the office she could stay professional, she couldn't lose herself to the possibility of being nice to him. She was there to grill him, to finally get to the bottom of why he was acting like he was, why he took the V. After that she would leave, and be content to get their mission over with.

When she arrived and she saw a faint light coming through the fogged glass window on the door, Violet was certain it would be him. Why would anyone else trade the comfort of home for the office? She took a deep breath, stretching her neck to arm herself with the words she planned to use. Flexing her hands she grabbed the doorhandle, and debated leaving as soon as she did. Though if she left she would have no understanding, and so she bit her tongue and went inside.

As she entered, she did find Butcher alone, his head jerking up from where he sat at his desk. Suddenly she had nothing to say, immediately then she forgotten the perfectly planned sentences she had on the walk over, just to stand there by the door. Butcher's hand drifted to the bottle by his side, and perhaps going so late at night wasn't a good idea.

"Look, I wanna know why you did what you did, why you keep doing what you do, and where that leaves us," Violet nodded as she started to approach him, satisfied the words were coming back, "and I won't leave until you tell me."

"Already told you you don't wanna be in my head," he raised his glass to her as she stood across from him, taking it in one gulp.

"Yeah and I don't exactly want to look at this fucking state do I?"

He chuckled, "I'll be sober in the morning, I'll clean up my look for ya then."

He had taken the necklace passing through his hands and slipped it round his neck. It must have been the one Ryan threw to the ground, the memory of Becca he passed to him. Now it returned to him, and she didn't have to look for guilt radiating off him, he wore it like a neon sign.

"I didn't come here to pick on you," she sighed, "I just want to understand. So tell me... Why the V?"

Taking the bottle, he poured another drink, but soon a second glass found him and he was pouring a drink for her. Violet never could pass down alcohol, particularly vodka, and soon they were both sat on the sofa by his desk. The black leather was worn making her sink beside him. It was a dangerous game letting the alcohol race into her system, but she didn't care. If it could open him up she'd allow it. He smelt as though the bottle being half empty was his doing, the top buttons of his shirt undone. She pretended not to notice.

"I didn't believe at first you'd wanna come back. I wouldn't of blamed you," he told her truthfully, "but without you... I don't have much chance do I? I'm not strong like you are."

"You've always done well before," she countered as she sat her legs up to separate them.

He shrugged, "yeah but... Blackmail and my wits only get me so far. I wanted to make real fucking damage."

Violet gulped her drink and handed it to him to pour more, "but now I'm back you're still using. You don't need this shit-"

"I do. What the fuck am I without it?"

"Bravest fucking twat I know. I thought my whole purpose was to help you do what you can't..."

He smiled as he took a drink, and she hated herself for finding him so enjoyable to look at in that moment. He leaned back and stared at her, and the alcohol blinded her to how he was definitely admiring her back. She could stand and deny anything for him all she liked, she always cared. It's hard not to care for the first person who made her think she could love. No matter what he did, there would always be a crinkling of fondness.