Cohabitation

~One~

"Jesus," Olivia said.

"I need a place to -," lay low, he wanted to say, hide was another word that came to mind, but Peter settled on "stay for a while."

She stepped aside to let him in and he was really glad that it had been her to open the door and not the boyfriend she was living with.
"What happened?" She asked as she led him to the kitchen.

"I got into a fight," Peter answered.

She snorted. "That much is obvious. Sit down. I'll make tea and grab the first-aid kit real fast. Be back in a second."

Peter sighed as he sat down at the table. Shit, he wished he had somewhere else to go, but really, he didn't and Olivia was one of the few friends none of his current 'friends' knew about.
She was back a moment later, looking at him like it was hurting her.

"We're too old for this shit, you know that right?" She asked, as she sat down opposite of him and took his face in her hand, so she could clean the blood and put on antiseptic. He knew his face would look awful for a few days and he hoped she wouldn't want him to take of his shirt, because the old bruises there would just raise questions he didn't want to answer now. Or ever.

"I know, it wasn't like I planned this," he replied. "Sorry for barging in."

She waved it away. "No problem. You are always welcome here. You know that. I'm just pissed that it took you so long and a fight to visit."

He hummed an asset as she cleaned him up and made him presentable again and then she looked into his eyes, her face serious. "What kind of fight was that?"

"The kind you don't want to stick around for to happen again," Peter answered.

"I figured," she stood up and went to the counter where she busied herself with making tea.
"You brought only one bag with you," she said as she put a mug of hot tea in front of him.

"Yeah...I was in a hurry."

"I think you need to drink this tea and then you need to take a shower, eat something and go to bed."

"I'll skip the food, my stomach isn't up to it," Peter replied. "Thank you," he added and meant it. He was grateful that she took him in in his state, bloody and clearly in some kind of trouble.

"Don't mention it, really."

"If your boy should –"

She cut him off, "Aiden won't throw you out, Peter. That is not the kind of man he is."

"What kind of man is he then? You know you never even sent a picture," he said.

"Where would I have sent that picture to? You hardly ever answer my e-mails, the last few actually failed to send. So I assume you have a new e-mail address you didn't share yet. At least you got my text with my new place."

"Sorry, life has been kind of a bitch lately," Peter replied, sipping the hot tea carefully. Sitting here in her brightly lit kitchen he felt himself relax.

"You can tell me all about that tomorrow morning then. You do look like you need to sleep for at least ten hours."

He had to admit that he did feel tired. Probably all the shit he had been through lately finally catching up with him. "Where is your boy tonight anyway?"

"Band."

"Band?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Band. He plays bass in a band, it's nothing special, says he, but I think they are pretty good. So there, I'm with a boy from a band."