ER - Ray/Neela
1…We’re doing fine and it gets better every time…
That time she cleaned his room.
It was the second week of their co-habitation. His room was a private place, always had been. People in it without his permission made him nervous, kind of ticked him off. So when he walked into his room to find it perfectly spotless, he was angry. He was perfectly ready to kick her out. It was just that she didn’t know him that well yet and she smiled at him so sweetly. He couldn’t stay mad; he couldn’t blame her, really. Instead he smiled and cracked a joke. They watched TV together.
It was nice. Even if it took him a week to fully forgive her (and mess up his room again).
2…We’re doing fine but I’ll let you decide…
That time she broke his guitar.
He’d been feeling generous. He promised he’d teach her the basics, just for fun. They’d made a plan and everything. He’d written up a few songs to teach her. She was excited. It would be fun.
But before they even started anything, she dropped it. Just dropped it right onto the corner of the coffee table. She held it up for him to see, apologizing profusely. There was a fucking hole in his guitar. A big gaping hole in his beautiful guitar. In his mind he was already thinking of what to tell the police when he dropped her out of the window. He’d already drawn up a list of people to take her bedroom. But then he saw she was on the verge of tears, still apologizing like her life depended on it (which it did, sort of).
In the end she paid for him to get it fixed. And promised to call him ‘master Ray’ for two weeks (she actually did for an entire week, too). So he decided to give her another chance. But she sure as hell wasn’t ever touching his guitar again.
3…There’s something wrong…
That time he got drunk.
Really, really drunk. Like, wake-up-the-next-morning-hung-over-with-very-little-memory-of-the-night-before drunk. He’d woken up on the couch, head pounding already, to the sound of her coming home from what she was loudly proclaiming to be ‘the longest fucking shift ever’.
His groan did not stop her ranting. A pillow over his head did not block her voice. A pillow at her head, however, did. He got it right back.
He swore to change the locks as soon as possible, but she made him some sort of anti-hangover smoothie. It worked wonders. And who would he be to kick out someone who had magic powers like that?
4…‘Cause everybody knows…
That time he fell in love.
At least, that’s what his friends told him. They said he was talking about her all the time. Their logical conclusion was that he was in love. He scoffed and shook his head, but on his way home he couldn’t help but wonder if they had a point. Because, seriously, he did talk about her a lot. And think about her a lot. And look at her a lot.
The thing was…he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her. That was the rule. So, what was he supposed to do about it? His plan was to ask her to leave, if it got to this point. Even though he didn’t want to, if he was perfectly honest. He liked the general cleanliness, most of the time. He liked her, obviously. And he had no such thing as a Plan B.
By the time he got home, though, she’d made dinner. And she’d done her hair in that way that shows off her face. He decided to create a Plan B instead.
5…That we can do this on our own…
That time she left.
It was one thing for him to know he was in love with her. But now, he was pretty sure she knew too. And his well thought out Plan B - which was to keep his mouth shut and be as inconspicuous as possible - was thrown out the window. She’d taken matters into her own hands, stolen his Plan A. And it hurt. It hurt like fucking hell.
He really, really, honest-to-God wished that he could kick her out. He wished that he could tell to leave. Yell at her for breaking his heart. But he couldn’t do any of that. It was too late. She was gone.
That time she cleaned his room.
It was the second week of their co-habitation. His room was a private place, always had been. People in it without his permission made him nervous, kind of ticked him off. So when he walked into his room to find it perfectly spotless, he was angry. He was perfectly ready to kick her out. It was just that she didn’t know him that well yet and she smiled at him so sweetly. He couldn’t stay mad; he couldn’t blame her, really. Instead he smiled and cracked a joke. They watched TV together.
It was nice. Even if it took him a week to fully forgive her (and mess up his room again).
2…We’re doing fine but I’ll let you decide…
That time she broke his guitar.
He’d been feeling generous. He promised he’d teach her the basics, just for fun. They’d made a plan and everything. He’d written up a few songs to teach her. She was excited. It would be fun.
But before they even started anything, she dropped it. Just dropped it right onto the corner of the coffee table. She held it up for him to see, apologizing profusely. There was a fucking hole in his guitar. A big gaping hole in his beautiful guitar. In his mind he was already thinking of what to tell the police when he dropped her out of the window. He’d already drawn up a list of people to take her bedroom. But then he saw she was on the verge of tears, still apologizing like her life depended on it (which it did, sort of).
In the end she paid for him to get it fixed. And promised to call him ‘master Ray’ for two weeks (she actually did for an entire week, too). So he decided to give her another chance. But she sure as hell wasn’t ever touching his guitar again.
3…There’s something wrong…
That time he got drunk.
Really, really drunk. Like, wake-up-the-next-morning-hung-over-with-very-little-memory-of-the-night-before drunk. He’d woken up on the couch, head pounding already, to the sound of her coming home from what she was loudly proclaiming to be ‘the longest fucking shift ever’.
His groan did not stop her ranting. A pillow over his head did not block her voice. A pillow at her head, however, did. He got it right back.
He swore to change the locks as soon as possible, but she made him some sort of anti-hangover smoothie. It worked wonders. And who would he be to kick out someone who had magic powers like that?
4…‘Cause everybody knows…
That time he fell in love.
At least, that’s what his friends told him. They said he was talking about her all the time. Their logical conclusion was that he was in love. He scoffed and shook his head, but on his way home he couldn’t help but wonder if they had a point. Because, seriously, he did talk about her a lot. And think about her a lot. And look at her a lot.
The thing was…he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her. That was the rule. So, what was he supposed to do about it? His plan was to ask her to leave, if it got to this point. Even though he didn’t want to, if he was perfectly honest. He liked the general cleanliness, most of the time. He liked her, obviously. And he had no such thing as a Plan B.
By the time he got home, though, she’d made dinner. And she’d done her hair in that way that shows off her face. He decided to create a Plan B instead.
5…That we can do this on our own…
That time she left.
It was one thing for him to know he was in love with her. But now, he was pretty sure she knew too. And his well thought out Plan B - which was to keep his mouth shut and be as inconspicuous as possible - was thrown out the window. She’d taken matters into her own hands, stolen his Plan A. And it hurt. It hurt like fucking hell.
He really, really, honest-to-God wished that he could kick her out. He wished that he could tell to leave. Yell at her for breaking his heart. But he couldn’t do any of that. It was too late. She was gone.