The Struggle •Unedited•

Chapter 16

"Can you use some company?"

What the hell? What is she doing here?

Out of all people, why would it be her standing outside of my door? This is like de ja vu. Except, do I run her away?

"Elisabeth?" I asked more confused than annoyed, her shoulders shrug with a small guilty smile, "What are you doing here?"

The reporter is still in the clothes from earlier today, but she's holding a small bag of groceries.

"Two reasons," she sighs, "One - make up food?" The bag of groceries is lifted up beside her head, but's lowered back down to her side in a second, "Two - I needed someone to talk to without being told, I told you so,"

She's being friendly - shockingly, but should I let her in? Is this going to be some weird cycle that happens every once in a while?

"It's cold outside. Are you gonna let me in or not?" she sasses.

My eyebrow arches as if questioning her choice of words. Maybe letting her in isn't such a good idea. Her body relaxes.

"Sorry," she apologizes as she looks down at her feet, "I'm still a bit worked up from an incident a while ago." She looks back up at me, "Can I come in? Please?"

Out of all times I've seen her, this is probably the weakest she's been. Elisabeth is always so confident in everything she does. Rather it be work or hanging out with the rest of us. From what I see, she hasn't been crying or anything major, she just looks a little glum. My body steps aside while I open the door wider, giving her permission to walk in.

Hesitantly, she walks in and places what she had in her hand on top of my small kitchen counter. My eyes follow her suspecting, but I feel as if I'm just being paranoid. I close the door behind me and return to assembling the box I had previously put down. She shuffled over and planted herself on my couch. The air was filled with a thick, awkward silence.

"So, why did you come here?" I ask, trying my best to not sound rude.

"I needed to talk to someone," she mumbles, "Liam would've just gloated or gone psycho,"

One box was completed and I picked up another.

"Psycho?"

She nods.

"Okay," a few seconds tick by, "What about Harry? Couldn't you have gone to him?"

"Him and Nicole are probably fucking right now,"

The comment stifles a laugh out of me, but I shrug in agreement. Those two have been hornier than ever since the pregnancy was a false alarm. Especially now that she's on birth control.

I was on my sixth box already while she sat there quietly. Something was bugging her. Never has she gone more than 5 minutes without talking. Grabbing the box I just finished putting together, I walked on over to the TV set and began to place all of mine and Mason's DVDs inside neatly.

"Okay," I speak up and her eyes move from her fingers to me, "You came here to talk, so talk.'

Those lips part to speak, but I quickly interrupt.

"But first, I have a question," her mouth closes, "Make up food? What the hell is that?"

Half a laugh escapes her, "It's a make up gift," she explains, "I bought a jar of peanut butter and jelly, a loaf of bread, and half gallon of milk. I was hoping we could make up over PB&J sandwiches?"

A smile couldn't help but spread on my lips. It's sweet, actually. I look up to glance at her and those brown eyes are filled with sincerity. She really means it.