Midnight Chaos... Rewrite

Chapter 9: Days Of Depression

Peter had been alone for a long time… It had almost been an entire year. He lost motivation to keep doing jobs… Everything he did felt pointless… like there was no reason for anything… Peter didn’t need money… He already had almost everything he wanted. His own house, TV, a new car… but he already knew that money cant buy you love…
It was soon October 20th… Desi was in her room at her house in Miami with her roommate, Jackson. She was looking through photos of Peter and her that he had sent. Soon… Jackson got home from ‘work’… She and Jackson had started dating, but Jackson showed to be an unfaithful partner… He always stayed overtime for a couple hours, which was a complete lie. She knew that he was at the strip club or with some other college girls in their dorm rooms. Desi walked downstairs. “Youre home late.” She hissed.
“I stayed at work for longer. Is that so bad?” Jackson asked, growling.
“Oh, maybe you’ve been working on something ELSE for extra hours? Maybe another girl? HM?” Desi hissed.
“Oh shut up whore. I know YOU cheat! I mean, what do I know if you’ve been home all day alone. Maybe you have some guy hiding in our bathroom!” Jackson countered.
“Oh so now youre putting the blame on me?!” Desi yelled, stepping forward.
“NO, BECAUSE WHAT IM SAYING IS TRUE!!!” Jackson screamed, starting to show violence.
“HOW CAN YOU FUCKING PROVE IT!!!!!” Desi yelled. She was used to violence.
“DON’T RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME, SLUT!!!” Jackson screamed, before slapping her across the face. Desi had just about enough. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it, before throwing him on the floor HARD, so hard he heard his spine snap. He yelped in pain.
“YOU WANNA DO THAT AGAIN?!” Desi screamed, Jackson shook his head, but Desi wasn’t done… “YOU THINK ITS TOUGH TO HIT A GIRL, DON’T YOU? DON’T YOU?!?!” She screamed, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back, Jackson sobbed in pain. Desi started slamming his head into the ground, yelling countless insults until she blacked out… Everything was blank… She couldn’t hear or feel anything… She was drowned in her thoughts… All her thoughts were of Peter and everything he did for her... Somehow, his abuse was better... He gave her a home, money, a job... and in return she cooked meals and cleaned the house...
When she came back to her senses… she looked at Jackson’s face… he was a bloodied pulp of a mess… She couldn’t even recognize his face… she dropped him and backed up, covering her mouth…. She slowly thought about Peter… she smiled just a bit, she had to tell him… She quickly grabbed her Polaroid camera, and snapped a picture of the bloodied Jackson, before running out of the house, and to the airport.
When she arrived… It was 3 in the morning… She looked at the house… just like she remembered it. She slowly put her mask on, and approached the door, before slowly knocking. She heard footsteps, before the door slowly opened… It was Peter, She could tell by his full eyes, and the scar across his cheek she made. Desi felt tears brim in her eyes when she saw him. “Peter…” She mumbled. It was her soft, perfect voice, that nobody could replace… It was unbelievable that such a voice belonged to such a violent lady.
Peter opened the door all the way and aimed a shotgun at her, refusing to believe that it was her. “Who are you.” He demanded.
Desi stepped back. “Peter… Its me! Its Desi!”
He still refused to believe it was her. “WHO THE FUCK SENT YOU!!!” He screamed, stepping closer.
“Peter… if you’d look at the calendar… it’s the anniversary of our meeting…” Desi whimpered, slowly taking off her mask. “S-See…? Its me…” She always knew how to calm him down. Just show her face and speak low.
Peter slowly lowered his shotgun, realizing it really was her. He suddenly felt regretful, and he went to turn and close the door, but he was stopped when he felt two strong arms wrap around his form tightly, squeezing him tightly. “Please don’t… I’m sorry… I-I missed you…”
Peter choked a bit. “Why… Why did you miss me…? Why are you sorry?” He asked, pushing her away and holding her by her shoulders.
Desi tried to hug him again, but he held her back. Desi didn’t want to explain, but she felt that she had to. “Peter, I missed you because… Because you are my other half… Without you, I’m nothing…”
Peter slowly let go of her shoulders, staring into her eyes, waiting for more…
Desi held back, she choked back her words… She didn’t want to tell him the truth… She didn’t want to be rejected… She didn’t want that emotional pain that Jackson had given her for the past year… she didn’t want to be afraid of losing him… "You're... you're somebody who protects me... physically and emotionally... you make time to spend with me, when you could be doing literally anything else..  andI came back because.... because....."
But it slipped out anyhow.
“B-Because I love you.” Desi mumbled.
Peter looked shocked, but he quickly responded. “Why? Why would you love me?”
“…You remind me of somebody… Somebody who was close to me… Who always took care of me when I needed it… Who was always by my side… Where you saw him, you saw me.” Desi hummed.
Peter put his face in his hands like he always did, rubbing his face. “No… Desi… No… You… You don’t love me… You appreciate how hard going I am… You don’t want to love somebody like me. I… I don’t deserve you, is what I’m saying…”
Desi whimpered, not wanting to argue with him. What he said hurt her, she held her feelings back. “Well… what do we do now then…? Do you still need me…?”
“Ive got open space if you’d like… Or go back to the one I remind you of. Hes probably—”
He stopped short when he saw Desi pull a picture out of her wallet and hand it to him. Peter gently took the image and looked at it. After studying it for a moment, he looked at her. “Is this him?”
Desi nodded.
“What happened?” Peter asked.
“He cheated on me.” Desi smiled.
Peter smirked. “Well now I know something for the future.” He joked, pocketing the picture.
Desi smiled at him calmly. “I want to stay with you.”
Peter covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile and tilted his head as if to say ‘Come in.”
Desi walked in, and headed right to the couch, laying down slowly. She put her arms behind her head.
Peter closed the front door and looked at her. “This doesn’t feel right… Wouldn’t you rather sleep on a bed?”
“I would, but I don’t want to mess up your bed.” Desi hummed.
“I… I wouldn’t mind…” Peter mumbled, pausing. “If we shared a bed.” He knew Desi wouldn’t hear that last part, because she fell asleep before he finished talking.