The Fall [2]

Two

❝ can you handle me the way i am? ❞

She is standing at the sink in the bathroom, exhaling and inhaling heavily, like she's gotta learn anew what breathing is.

It appears she indeed has to.

The last time she felt her soul weighing that much on her shoulders was when her family had believed her brother to have died. However, back then things were different. Her support system was stable, she had her mom and her uncle and her grandparents, and friends. What does she have now?

Part of her is still trying to catch up with the events of the past days, unable to understand how her life could take such an extreme turn, and make her lose almost everything including her sense of self.

She hit rock-bottom once already. What if she won't be able get out of it again?

Seth slides the card through the lock, opening the door shortly after hearing the soft click as the card is read. He pushes down the handle and enters the dimly lit room, permeated with the familiar whiff of mustiness. He finds her coming out of her bathroom.

Her cheeks are of a healthy color again, reminding him of how pale her face has gotten when he found her outside the mercado. It had scared the heck out of him to see Amber in that much distress, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt like her life depended on it. In some fucked up way it felt good to be the one to help her, to be the only one that was capable of rescuing her. And while she may has cooled down again, he's constantly on edge now ― only waiting for the moment it'll happen again.

She won't speak to him.

She's clammed up completely by now and the fact that Seth doesn't want to speak about what happened in the Twister doesn't make it any better for her. For him, the Twister is history, just like Richard and Carlos and that fucking job that he has managed to get inside those prison walls in Missouri. Even if it would help Amber to speak about the happenings ― it would definitely not help him.

So for his own good, he figures, all she needs now is a little space.

Thinking that way works out well for him. He doesn't have to try to play therapist and she can begin to forget what happened. The only thing that stings him is the guilt sitting deep inside his gut, because ultimately, it messes with his entire calculations.

He can lie to himself as much as he wants ― but the silence treatment he believes to receive from her is biting. Thus, he finds himself somewhat glad when he comes around engaging the girl in a bit of conversation with him.

"Dinner delivery," he chimes now, putting the plastic bags down on the table. It's chicken mole again ― for the simple reason that the one they had yesterday was from a snack around the corner, and Seth is too uneasy to leave her a single more minute alone in the room.

Amber stands from the bed, walking up to him rather curiously. A good sense of healthy appetite has finally gripped her and the Gecko experiences relief at the sight of the girl behaving somewhat normal. If she told him she wasn't hungry again, he'd probably drive out and spend his last dime on fucking food for her. 

Due to their current practically non-existent communication, Seth hasn't told her about his plans yet. When he left the room a bit less than an hour ago, she didn't even ask where he went ― she was too consumed by the book in her lap. For a second Seth believed it to be a bible, but then he blamed his tainted mind for twisting things up again.