Chapter 47: Little Meep

                                    

                                          
The night was too cold. Too silent.
                          
Even with the blankets wrapped around her small body, the chill never abandoned her. And deep down, Sallie knew why. She missed the body of Corey with her, missed how she was able to cuddle up with him and felt safe...but she had to remind herself why she was so angry at him. Why she was so hurt...
                          
I can't stay mad at him...
                          
But you must! You need to prove a point!
                          
He destroyed his drugs, and tomorrow I'm gonna coach his ass into rehab.
                          
He isn't gonna listen...
                          
Sallie sat up suddenly from the sofa, resting her head in her hands as she sat there, feeling the pained silence in the once-lively apartment. Contemplating, Sallie stared before her, seeing the dark bathroom, her mind drawling.
                          
I miss him.
                          
You're angry at him...
                          
Yes, but it doesn't mean I don't love him...
                          
But does he even fucking love you?
                          
Yes, he does.
                          
Are you just saying that because that's the answer you WANT to hear?
                          
Frustrated with herself, conflicted and confused, Sallie stood up, swaying slightly as her relaxed body tried to adjust to the sudden need of action. Her legs shook softly, shivering from the cold.
                          
She remembered the state Corey was in when she met him at the Market, and how terribly depressed he was when she sent him to his room like a mother to a son. She even strained her ear and heard him sob...
                          
I wanna see him.
                          
No, you don't. You're furious with him, remember?!
                          
Slowly, Sallie turned to the door, the desire in seeing her best friend far stronger than ever before, and on soundless feet, she approached the bedroom. The door was closed.
                          
The anger you've shown him will be forgotten if you go in there. All of that effort WASTED.
                          
That's why I'm going... Sallie grabbed the door-handle. I forgive him now.
                          
And she pushed the door-handle down, carefully pushing the door open. A slither of light from the window illuminated the bedroom, and she saw the slump form of Corey in the bed. The blanket was over him, but seeing it rising and falling slowly, his breathing deep, she knew he was asleep.
                          
My poor baby...
                          
Not poor Corey! He's being punished!
                          
Fuck off, Critical bitch!
                          
Delicately, Sallie stepped inside, the moonlight bathing her naked legs and arms. Dressed in her usual sleepwear, a baggy tank-top and shorts, she shivered against the chill that settled in the apartment, and yet inside the bedroom, it felt more warmer, comforting.
                          
The air was thick with the smell of male, of Corey.
                          
From where she stood, Corey was tucked under the bedsheet, curled up, his back towards her.
                          
The sight of a defeated man, and Sallie knew for certain she wasn't angry at him anymore. Her hand found the end of the blanket and slowly lifted it, revealing a half-naked Corey. He didn't shift at the blanket's movements, and calmly, Sallie sat on the edge of the bed, tucking herself under the blanket and shuffled behind Corey, one arm hanging over his waist, spooning him from behind.