Snow Space

Sharp Relief

Most of the shelves in the store were decorated with fancy mobiles of pale pink elephants, or yellow unicorns, none of which Khamil was particularly intent on buying, particularly considering the sizes of the things. Though, as he scanned the options, a smaller cot mobile caught his eye, this one with miniature red, blue and yellow hot air balloons - and optimistically, he reached over to check the small, white price tag dangling off of one of the baskets. He read the printed digits, then his eyes widened in alarm at the price, his mouth a small 'o'. 

"Fuck me."

His casual expletive provoked the woman next to him to gasp in horror, her scolding eyes leaving him to humbly apologise and put the baby mobile back on the shelf, quickly making his exit from the shop. The mobile didn't matter anyway, he'd already managed to spend a decent £6 on a small stuffed elephant from 'ToyLand', which was about as much as he could've spared anyway. This was his small gesture - his way of telling Ronnie that he was mature enough to deal with this, despite the uncertainty inside. He'd made the decision that she deserved at least some reassurance, even if he was lacking it himself, and at least this would show her where he stood on the situation. With the small bag in hand, he crossed the road towards the house, a destination once again becoming familiar to him, though of course with more sincere reasoning. Khamil thought nothing of it at first when no one had answered the door - that was tradition at Ronnie's house. Though after the third or fourth ring, it was starting to get a little tedious. 

"Hello?" Khamil called through the door, finally looking up as the door opened, to a stony face. It wasn't Ronnie this time though, it was her sister. Khamil had used to be on moderately good terms with Liza when he'd been dating Ronnie, though now understandably there was a vague tension between them, as if neither was sure how to treat the other. Liza, much like her sister, had always had that cold air around her, almost supercilious, which often made her seem unapproachable and standoffish. 

"You can't come in," she said stonily, her eyes set on Khamil.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Who is it?" came a call from down the hall, a voice racked with nerves. Apprehensively, Khamil tried to see down into the house, though Liza blocked him off.

"Khamil."

"What's happened?" Khamil asked, worry rising in his stomach.

"Ronnie can't talk right now."

Khamil pushed past Liza into the house, who didn't really make much of an effort to object to this, and quickly stepped through into the small living room, where Ronnie was sat on the sofa, her face pale. She looked at him, forcing a small smile, though evidently she was shaken up - tense. Liza appeared behind him in the doorway, her arms crossed.

"Sorry," Ronnie muttered meekly, guilt in her voice. "I had to get rid of it."

There was a dead silence. Khamil's throat had gone dry, though for some reason, there was barely any anger there.

"You didn't tell me."

"I know," Ronnie replied quietly, in the most resigned manner Khamil had ever seen her. This was far from the boisterous, chatty queen bee that he and everyone else knew. Liza stayed behind Khamil, looking down at the carpet, acting as if she was there to supervise the conversation. 

"It's calm. For the best."

"Yeah."

Funnily enough, there was a sadness resting in Khamil, but he knew it didn't really mean anything. There wasn't really much left to say after that anyway, especially with Liza hovering, and with a slow nod of agreement, Khamil drew backwards, the quietness magnifying the sound of his trainers on the carpet as he made his way out of the house. Neither of the two girls really moved, though the unassertive manner in which he had left signified a mutual understanding of the subject. Once out, Khamil let the door shut behind him, the full impact of the words suddenly almost knocking him flat. The immense conflicting feelings swirling in his gut made for a dizzy nausea, as simultaneously he felt like sinking back into the door in sheer relief. As much as he wouldn't have liked to admit it, relief was the strongest emotion running wild in his head right now.  Upon managing to calm the initial tidal wave of shock - something he had become quite accustomed to - it didn't take him long to decide exactly who the person was to cheer him up in such a circumstance. After all, as a now unbound man, there was nothing he longed more for, than to simply drink, get hammered, and cause a bit of chaos.