Angelina cringed at Craig’s accurate peg of Stan; it hurt to hear it so bluntly stated. Waiting for Craig to get the ice, a brief smile was shown, bravado in the face of distress. ”Thanks Craig, I appreciate it.” She needed to sit down and while every fiber in her body demanded she scream at him, she wouldn’t do it here, not in front of her customers or Craig. Hell if she could have she’d gone outside to have this conversation, but the pouring rain made such ideas impossible. ”I’ll be in back.” Comment directed to both the men as the ice was taken and with a very defiant strut of sorts the brunette moved off towards the storage room, unwilling to have this conversation in her office or adjoining apartment.
Stan’s words were still vibrating in her head as she waited for the man to show up, knowing full well Craig would make him keep the keys, insisting it was his only option, and in truth it was. He couldn’t stay at that flea infested motel, and he wasn’t welcome on her couch just yet. So he’d stay with Craig or in his car, if he had one. Troubling thoughts continued to spiral around in temporal lobe till the tentative knock was heard and Stan came into the stockroom.
Waiting for a minute, doing her best to catch her breath and resolve, Angelina finally turned around and did the one thing she’d wanted to do since those four words had left his mouth. She slapped him, hard, right across the cheek. Of course she did this with the bruised hand and promptly gave a curse, muttering she was fine under her breath so as to not send Craig crashing through the door, before placing the ice around her swollen hand and glaring back at the handsome brunette man she’d loved with all her heart. ”Don’t lie to me, you let me believe you were dead, you made me tell our daughter you were dead. So don’t for a second begin to preach love at me.” Her voice was strong yet shaking, emotion rampant though she kept it to a low enough decibel as to not scream.
Gods her hand heart, but it paled in comparison to her pounding and aching heart. The tears fell then, slowly at first then in streams, as with sob she found herself seeking out comfort from the very man she’d seconds ago slapped. ”Oh Stanley…” muffled sniffle given against his shirt, noticing the slight change in smell, but the all too familiar aroma that was him as well.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Angelina Uris
An Angel In Waiting
Club Alien Owner
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Waiting on an angel.
One to carry me home.
Hope you come to see me soon,
cause I don't want to go alone,
I don't want to go alone.
|
Feedback: 
