Chapter 2: 2: Conditional Love
His eyebrows bunch when she takes too long to warm up to him, the monster inside of him growing impatient and snatching her jaw, "That's why I can't tell you where I was."
Mustering the most regretful frown she has ever seen on his beautiful face, she nods weakly.
Hazel eyes gloss over, her reality never feeling more real than this very moment with her own words shining light over the deep hole she's buried in, "Or tell me what you do for work."
Scratching the back of her neck, "Or tell me when I can meet your parents," she braves taking her eyes off his strong jaw to stare at the floor between them.
Huffing at the chips of green nail polish holding on from a disappointing Mother's Day, "You can't even show me the big house in the friendly town that was worth leaving my life for."
Snarkily crossing her arms, she gains confidence in her ammunition. She felt like she was the only one working and sacrificing for this great dream that -he- had.
Shrinking when he gently strokes her cheek, she cautiously peeks to find him smiling at her.
Terrified, her unsatisfying peanut butter and jelly sandwich threatens its return as he cups the sides of her head.
The demon in his threatening eyes taunt her, Harper clutching his wrists and finding it hard to breathe.
Trapped in a vice by the hands of a physically sturdy man, her heart pounds out of her chest with beads of sweat forming on her upper lip.
In that instant, she believes this is that moment where he finally goes too far.
Instead, he kisses her forehead.
Eyeing him suspiciously, preparing herself for the next mental olympics she must conquer to survive his self-serving logic, "You wanted an important man."
Nodding, he pats her cheek then casually leans into the wooden entertainment system, "This is the kind of life that women of important men have."
He sucks in another addicted breath, examining the way she dramatically searches the apartment in confusion.
Knowing she could argue with him, making them spend another few hours yelling and threatening one another until they either brawl, have the cops called on them, or both, she stews in her thoughts.
Not wanting to deal with a beat up face in public, or hospital bills getting added to the list of things she already can't afford, Harper's eyes land on the television's screen-saver clock.
Dishearteningly learning that she needs to get up for work in four hours, she's faced, yet again, with the same dilemma she has battled over the last month: will disagreeing with him be worth another sleepless night?
"I just want you out," throwing her hands up while yelling, "You can stay with your imaginary parents in their imaginary house with the imaginary "important people" that -aren't- paying these bills since I can't know anything a wife is supposed to know!"
Fed up by ten months of Clyde's spontaneous romance and daring magnetism that has accumulated into nonsense and lies since her time in the Lone Star State, she refuses to back down now.
"How the fuck am I supposed to do good in school when I have to work to afford this place that we have to leave by December?! I don't believe you actually have money for a house for us because -my- money it's what's been keeping us afloat since–!"
Crumbling when he raises a fist, relief consumes her as fingers elongate to point at her with a trembling hand.
Quiet and disturbed, eyes wide like saucers, he simply grunts, downs the rest of his beer, then throws the can past her.
One step is all it takes for his body to fill her personal space with pressure and Clyde au natural, "Before we ever even kissed," she grows further vexed, her eyes following a line of unsmoked ash as it falls from his cigarette onto the carpet.
Swearing while dragging his sock through gray dust, he groans before bending over to put his cigarette in the ashtray.
"Harper," he turns to face her, the girl backing into the entertainment system and sliding along painted wood until the crystal, key-holder dish hides behind her forearm, "I told you being with me means being with me– better or worse."
Hopeless eyes glide over her, watching the way her cheeks flush and her shoulders lower, "There's a lot of things I have to do that I can't talk about."
Spinning around to face her before backing his calf into the coffee table without stumbling over, "Do you remember what you said after that?"
Scratching his temple, portraying the refreshing, boyish appeal that ensnared her until it only felt like another one of his games, she tries to recall the same moment in time.
The sudden aggression in his tone jars her from mental archives, "What did you say, Harper?!"
Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm before pulling her into his arms, the sturdy warmth of his frame somehow disarms her, begrudgingly filling her with emotions -other- than anger, "I said…"
He pets the back of her head, Harper shuddering through her panic while struggling to breathe when her legs decide they are too heavy to move away from him, "I-I–I!"
Stammering, at a loss for words as another event that he remembers eludes her, the allure of his close proximity and the snugness of his sultry voice penetrates her eardrums, "You said, "That's so fucking hot.""
Pulling back slightly to take in her bewildered expression, Harper's face goes pale as though she's seen a ghost.
Shaking her head no, he captures her jaw and nods, repeating himself, "You said, "That's so fucking hot. I…," what?"
Her bottom lip trembles, the girl struggling to hold her poker face from spilling tears when the empty spaces between them are filled with her own arms as she hugs herself.
"Say it," he narrows his eyes, staring down at her shirt before looking back at her face. When he goes in to grab her shirt again, she swats his hands away and utters, "I…"
Harper sniffles, ashamed at words spoken so carelessly by a younger version of herself, "I don't," she breaks down, sobbing between words on her trip to the floor, "I don't have to know your secrets to love you."
Clyde nods with the emotion of a robot before rising to his feet, smoothly grabbing the keys and tucking them into his front pocket before sitting on the couch to light another cigarette.
Quietly collecting herself from the floor in a sniveling hunch, she drags her feet down the short hall without another word, closes the door to their room, and crawls into bed.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone