Lazy Lizzie

Twenty-Nine

Leo returned about an hour later, no Dale. A red stain covering the front of his tank top scared Lizzie, although it shone in a strange orange, not the scarlet hue she expected dried blood to take.

"It's ketchup," Leo took his shirt off. "Followed him into a fast food place, he got inventive once he figured he was cornered, armed himself from one of the tables. Splashed this all over me," he frowned down at the rag in his hands. "They were calling the police, so I bolted. Didn't need that conversation with my PO."

He tried to appease her, "Threatened I'll call Vic on him if I ever see him again. Watched the place until the police got him. He'll sleep it off in jail," he ended his report.

"What were you thinking?!" Lizzie slapped his chest, annoying him.

"Me?! And you? You could've gotten shot!"

They stared at each other, smiles spreading on both their faces. Lizzie thought he'd take her into his arms, but he just stared at her with judgy eyebrows. "Maybe you should go, at least until the Ramiros get him. Stay in Canada for a while, come back when it's safe."

Go?!

"I'm not leaving because of Dale!" Lizzie screamed at him as if it was his fault. "My last years have all been about him. Screw him!"

"He's a psychopath. Maybe you were right to hide," Leo looked her in the eyes, making her tense. He was pushing her away, her laziness had begun to wear him off too -- like it did Dale, who always got angry with her. Instead of slumping into a chair and letting him talk by himself like she used to do with her ex, Lizzie knew she would have to work harder, this time. 

She joked, trying to keep it light, "I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself, you know."

He looked over her, Lizzie's smile began feeling like she was at a job interview. "You were right, it's time I stood up for myself," she added, in desperation.

"I think it's hard enough for you in normal circumstances," he said, and her smile faded completely. "It's a lot to juggle, with your... mood problem. I think it's best you let me handle this part, at least for a while. Focus on getting better. Maybe therapy, walks, sports. You know, process things."

Lizzie was quick to appease him, "I know what I have to do." She came closer, but he didn't move to welcome her, nor to push her away. 

"Good. Because I don't, anymore," he took a towel from his backpack.

When he got out of the shower, Lizzie was already in bed, waiting under the covers. He didn't say anything, just climbed next to her.

"We could watch something," she tried to get his interest once he'd turned away from her.

"I don't feel like passing time," he said. "Got that interview tomorrow."

Lizzie didn't insist. She pushed into him to make herself more comfortable, thankful that he accepted her, not pushing her away. There was no reason to, she had to keep reminding herself, he wasn't angry with her. Just sad.

She knew what she had to do.