Just as I Begin to Fade

Thirty Seven. Friends

As promised, Lindsey came home to Stevie that evening and she was actually up in order to greet him.

"Hi," she wrapped her arms around him. "How are you?"

"Guilty, how about you?" he encircled her within his embrace.

The only thing that seemed to be on her body was a short, black, silk robe; a pair of black lace panties, and a possible black camisole. Her blonde hair fell straight down her back and she was barefoot, exposing the deep red nail polish on her toes and the gold anklet on her ankle. She was fresh faced, her eyes were a little puffy from not only the crying she was doing but maybe from sleeping her hangover off.

"I'm as good as I'm gonna get. She's angry and there is a chance she will never talk to me again," she shrugged.

"Don't say that," he rubbed her lower back gently. "Why do you say such negative things?"

"Because I have lived a lifetime of negativity," she kind of laughed. "Worst case scenario first comes to mind."

"That's no way to live," he shook his head. "You're very intuitive and I know you have a deeper feeling of things. Use your gut instead of your fears."

She nodded gently.

"So, what have you been up to?" he kind of patted her hip.

"Nothing really," she slowly released herself from his grasp. "I poured myself a glass of wine and prepared a bath like I said I would... Soaked for a really long time, actually started to get heavy eyed, so I hopped out, put lotion all over myself, finished my wine, poured a second glass, watched my soap and wrote in my journal, then I took a nap and woke up an hour or so ago."

"Sounds relaxing," he took a seat where she pulled him. "I stressed about Gwen all day."

"I stressed in my journal," she kind of raised a brow as she prepared a couple glasses of iced tea.

"So, is that where all of your emotions and worries go then?"

"Oh, but of course," she came around to give him his beverage and then she took her seat. "It can be really hard for me to say my feelings and thoughts out loud. I do that usually through my songs and poems."

"As I've said, I think you should work on doing that out loud. So many things are not okay due to the lack communication. I notice you depend on alcohol to do that... Maybe if you practiced doing that, you'd be able to say how you feel."

She didn't make a movement, she only hung her head above her glass as she listened to him.

"Stevie?"

"I'm listening," she picked her head up. "Mind coming to bed with me? I just want to lay down, my head is killing me."

"Sure," he stood up first just so that he could take their drinks to the room. When he returned to see if there was anything she needed, he offered his hand.

She took it gratefully as she wasn't feeling her best and she really used his weight to stand up. "My nose is going to start bleeding right now," she commented as soon as she felt her head spin.

"What?" he creased his brow.

A drop of blood would then fall from the left side and she brought her hand up quickly.

He grabbed a rag and tilted her head back and he pressed it on for her.

Her body felt extra weighted so she leaned her head back on his shoulder and she had one of her hands resting in his forearm, trying to stop her nose from bleeding, but he was doing the work for her.