Chapter 25 - Calm

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"People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls." - Carl Jung

*The day after the shooting*

"We should go to the beach or something." Hazel suggested with a joint dangling from her lips as she sketched Chibs as he worked diligently on his bike.

He was silent for a moment only looking at her as he tossed his wrench back into the tool chest. "Would that make you feel better?" As he walked over to her he whipped his hands with an already filthy rag before taking the joint from her lips.

"Maybe," she mused. "I don't know what's gonna make me feel better honestly."

"This helping?" He asked as he motioned for her to open her mouth so he could place the joint between her lips again.

"Weed always helps," she mumbled.

"What are you drawing?" He asked, leaning over to catch a glimpse knowing she would mostly likely keep it hidden.

"You," she smiled as she places the joint in the ashtray, still burning. "I've never had such a sexy subject."

"Oh aye," he chuckled. "I think you're being generous." Chibs remarked as he looked at the rough sketch, touched by the way she viewed him and impressed by her skill. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you," she said shyly. "I'm gonna draw you like one of my French girls," Hazel chuckled as he lifted his shirt to wipe his face.

"What?" He stepped out of the sun. "It's fucking hot, think the sun got to ya."

"It's from a movie," she rolled her eyes. "Violet said Tig was there when she woke up."

"He's got it bad," Chibs said confidently. "He's been talking shite about banging her and leaving, like it was some game, he's in trouble now."

"I'm not sure who will jump off first," she flipped her sketchbook shut. "Violet gets attached but she's very sensitive and Tig seems like a cocksucker."

"Aye, you pegged him." Chibs smiled, keeping the finer points of Tig's personality to himself, it wasn't his place to babble about the darker sensitive side Tig kept so well hidden. "Hazel," he tilted her head up to look into her eyes. "You alright?"

"No," she admitted, her chin trembling between his thumb and index finger.

"Come love," he took her book and placed it on the tool chest before scooping her into his arms. "What can I do?"

"Love me," she mumbled into his chest. "I just want to spend the day with you in bed."

--

*Earlier that morning*

"I don't cook," Violet said unapologetically. "Hazel always cooked when we were kids. We got some ice cream and beer, ramen too."

"Sounds gourmet to me," Tig joked. "You gotta cook it naked though."

"No way," she laughed. "I'll burn myself. I have enough scars."

"Order in then," he suggested, wrapping his arms around her waist in the middle of the kitchen.

"Take out at ten in the morning?" She teased. "You're an idiot."

"Jesus," he was trying to be nice but failing and it made him angry. "Hanna's then."

"K," she beamed and pulled away from him. "Naked?"

"I fucking wish," he growled watching as she hurried away to get dressed.

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