Chapter 10: Of Pizza, Love, & Apologies

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The doorbell buzzed and Fizzarolli yanked himself out of thoughts of the past, as did Samara.

"Must be the pizza..."

he murmured absently, tapping Samara's shoulder so she'd scoot up and let him out. He stepped out and dried off with a towel, wrapping it around his head, the bells on the hat he never took off (and Samara often wondered if it wasn't just a part of his head) jingled merrily against the fluffy cotton.

"I'll go get it! You take your time."

Samara was already standing up.

"Oh like hell! I'm starving, I feel like I ran a marathon today."

He sauntered out into the living room and threw open the door, unashamedly baring all to a terrified delivery boy.

"Thanks buddy!"

He tipped the guy and then wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"You sure you don't want any other tips?"

The delivery guy screamed and fled down the hall, and Fizzarolli felt a lump of wet cloth thwack him in the side of the head.

"Ow, bitch!!!"

Samara had thrown it at him and was now doubled over howling with laughter, and he was ever so slightly disappointed to see she was wearing her outfit again except for shoes and with her damp hair pulled back into its ponytail.

"You...are just awful! Have you no shame?"

She scolded him when she could catch her breath, diving onto the couch and ripping open the steaming boxes he'd placed on the coffee table. He grabbed a piece of pizza and stuffed it into his mouth.

Extra cheese...yummy!

"No way. Shame is for squares. And why should I hide this glorious sexiness from the world? Kid's lucky, most people have to pay extra for that kind of show!"

He spoke through huge bites of hot, doughy goodness.

"I didn't have to."

She pointed out, shoving his shoulder playfully.

He shoved back with a little more force, almost toppling her as she reached for her third slice.

"Well, I make exceptions for you because you're special. You're one lucky lady!"

She sighed, chewing thoughtfully.

"Yeah I'll consider myself lucky again once I find Fizz and once he doesn't hate me anymore."

He patted her knee gently, apologizing for the greasy fingers on her clothes.

"Hey, he doesn't hate you. Who could hate you? Especially after one bad snap? We all get them. You think my life is all sunshine and rainbows? Cotton candy dreams and all that shit? Everyone has their bitch days, Samara. Especially someone who's gone through the things that you have, and you haven't even told me everything, I can see it in your eyes. There's a lifetime's worth of pain in there for somebody who died so young..."

"Thanks, Fizzarolli. You really are pretty amazing."

He beamed at her words, making a grandiose bow and flourishing fancily with his pizza.

"I aim to please! Speaking of which, here have some of this bomb-ass brownie!"

When the food was finished, Samara looked at her phone. It was late, she needed to find Fizz now. It had been long enough. He couldn't stay out overnight, it was too dangerous.

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