𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳༉‧₊˚. ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʟʟ

𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻.

DELIA OPENED THE WINDOW IN HER SMALL ROOM,
reaching out her arms and letting the water droplets fall on her soft palms. The only thing accompanying the rain sounds and her record player was the soft hum of the shower, which soon came to a quiet screeching halt as Chris turned the water off.

A few minutes later she could hear his footsteps pass her door, then stop and come back. She could tell that he just stood in front of the door, probably wondering if she was awake or had fallen asleep to The Beatles record.

"I'm awake." She called over her shoulder, still resting her head on her arms on the windowsill.

Her door opened with a squeak and Chris sat on the end of her bed, curly hair still wet and his chest red from the hot water.

He yawned, laying back on the bed. "Good show tonight."

"Yeah. They sounded great."

A few moments of silence passed before Chris spoke again, considering his words. "So I was thinking," he paused, again considering what he was about to say.

"That's never good." Delia was still turned away and towards the window, but she smiled as Chris laughed.

He started again. "I was thinking that we could do something tomorrow, I'm free. All day."

"Well, you know how busy I am these days. I may have to check my schedule."

Chris looked pleased at her response, Delia's hazel eyes warm as she joked with him- her way of saying she was free, and did in fact want to do something tomorrow.

Before he could reply,she turned to face him on the bed, knees pulled up to her chest. "I think that the Temple of the Dog songs are some of the best."

Chris looked confused though not surprised, a random comment from Delia was expected whenever a moment of silence occurred. "Of mine?"

"No, just the best songs I've heard in a while." She paused and carefully thought over her next words, wanting to say what she'd been thinking for weeks. "I think that there's no better way to memorialize Andy. And I like Eddie because he's nothing like Andy." She sighed. "But it'd probably be pretty hard to be like him anyways."

Chris mirrored Delia's actions, getting the notion that one of their late-night talks was in order. He struggled to define her expression due to the barely lit room, though by the tone of her voice he could tell she was wearing one of her sly, wistful smiles. "Thank you, Del." Delia could tell he looked away from her silhouette, his eyebrows probably furrowed in thought. "And you're right, it would be pretty hard to be like him, purposefully."

Chris went quiet, reminiscing about past days with his old roommate and friend, a younger, clean Delia, and early Soundgarden.

"What are we gonna do tomorrow?" Delia asked, effectively changing the subject before fully letting herself feel the extent of her feelings.

Chris had thought of many things he'd want to do with her, though Delia didn't seem one to fawn over some elaborate planned date. She seemed happiest when perusing bookshelves in a thrift store or ordering pancakes with chocolate chips at the Doghouse.

But then again, Delia never spoke in detail about a date with the very few boyfriends she'd had over the years, Chris didn't know if she liked movies or a walk in the park. He didn't even know if tomorrow was a date. "Get breakfast somewhere first." He shrugged, "whatever you want."

"Alright," she yawned, "Doghouse tomorrow then?"

He grinned, she was predictable. He stood from her bed, "yeah, see you in the morning."

Delia wished him a good night and shut her window, pulling her quilt up to her chin as she closed her eyes.

༺✧༻

Delia warmed her hands with her cup of tea, continuing a game of tic tac toe on a napkin. Outside the diner, people rushed to work, cars flew by. Inside the diner, few tables were occupied, and oldies played over the tinny radio. Chris lost the game of tic tac toe, crumpling up the napkin.

They were quiet, tired from the late night and now early morning. Delia looked out the foggy window, knowing there should've been a lot more on her mind than the man across from her or what she was going to order for breakfast.

Delia, for most of her late teens and the start of her twenties, hadn't really planned out anything for the future. She had dropped out of college, falling back into her addiction.

Now that she was clean, her mistakes were making themselves more apparent than ever. If she hadn't dropped out of college, she would've been out of school for almost a year, with a stable job. Getting sober didn't feel as great as she wished it would. At least when she was high, her mistakes seemed laughable. Now, there wasn't really anything to laugh at. She wasn't a kid anymore, and had less time to repair the past.

She told herself not to dwell on that fact, as it never got her anywhere except to a spiral of worrisome thoughts.

Chris nudged her with his boot, "you alright? Looking serious." He sipped his coffee, studying her face.

Delia ran her hand through her hair, feeling exasperated with herself. "I fucked up. For sure." She stated, with confidence that surprised herself.

Chris wasn't sure exactly what she meant, though she didn't seem to be joking. "What'd you do?" He inquired, half joking, half serious.

"I can't just live with you forever, Chris." Delia rested her head in her hands, looking down at the table. "I never thought about the future, and now I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

"You can stay with me as long as you want. I really don't mind." He toyed with his pinkie ring, continuing to speak. "You have time to figure it all out."

Delia sighed. "I lost a good few years, you know that."

Chris looked to her, eyes tired. A pessimistic Delia was unsettling, to say the least. "But you're here now."

"Yeah, I am." She slouched in the booth, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

It was no secret that practically everyone involved in the music scene in Seattle were shaken by what had happened to Andy, and especially those in Chris and Delia's circle, though Delia hadn't said anything like what she was currently hinting at. That she might still be alive, but Andy wasn't. They both suffered from the same addiction, and she didn't understand why she was the one to get sober. Andrew had much more going for him.

"Then just..." Chris hesitated, trying to think of what to say. "Live enough for the both of you. Quit reading and writing books and start writing songs." Her lips turned up in a small smile, as did his. "Make him proud, y'know?"

"I can't write songs."

"I'll teach you."

"What if I'm unteachable?" Delia retorted, now smiling. Chris had succeeded in cheering her up.

"I'll find a way."

Their exchange continued throughout breakfast as they sat in the diner for a couple hours more, eating many pancakes, having multiple refills of coffee and earl grey.

Delia's doubts and pessimistic attitude quickly faded the more her and Chris talked, he easily distracted her as he told her everything from stupid jokes to stories from touring and recent song ideas.

༺✧༻