~Dorothy Sawdon~

I had been different around Rachel throughout the rest of the week, flinching whenever she would touch me and stammering whenever we were having conversations or when she was looking at me. I think she noticed but she didn't say anything about it. She'd just give me a knowing look that made me blush like crazy and look away with a chuckle.

I tried to keep my distance with her for the sake of my sanity but it was proving hard since I kept subconsciously finding myself in wherever she was.

It was the weekend now and Rachel hadn't left for work yet so we just lounged around the living room, Rachel on her phone and me with my face buried in a magazine. I stopped reading when Rachel's voice said my name.

"Dorothy" she called out, putting her phone down on her chest and turning to me.

"Huh?" I asked, gulping as I stared back.

"About the other day" she said, making me frown at what she was heading at, "Who was that on the phone?"

"What's with the prodding?" I asked instead, frowning and trying to ignore her by returning my gaze to a page of the magazine I was reading.

"It's just a single question" she sat up, propping her elbows on her thighs and leaning forward. "An I know it wasn't Jordan" she scoffed, making me frown. "How about this. You answer it and I'll answer any question you have about me".

My ears perked up at that and I sat up too, looking over at her. She stood from the couch she was sitting on and joining me on the floor with her legs folded in a butterfly position. I mirrored her.

What she was asking me to tell her wasn't exactly the kind of thing I ever imagined myself telling anyone, not even Jordan but I supposed I would be living with her, and I was slowly falling madly In love with her, I might as well tell this person.

"So who was it?" she questioned. I pressed my eyes closed and released a breath before I answered.

"My father"

She had a confused look on her face, as if asking why I was so pissed off from talking to my father. She had no idea.

"It's not something I talk about a lot" I sighed.

I watched her stretch her hand out to me, placing her soft palms atop my hand and rubbing comforting circles on the back of my hand. I inhaled shakily.

"He did something, to myself and my brother" I said first, trying to tiptoe around the answer and clenching my fists tightly, "He wasn't exactly the best father; he was absent most of our lives but when he was there, he was hurting us. Our mother... She died when we were younger and that only helped him get away with his abuse better"

She held my hand tightly in her's, our palms pressing together as she urged me on.

"I moved out but my brother didn't and even though I'm like an ocean over, I can't avoid him" I squeezed her hand, "And now he wants me to come back".

I lowered my gaze to the floor, pursing my lips together in await for her response.

"I really appreciate you telling me" she voiced out but I still didn't look up. "... You can ask about me now".

My head snapped up at that, eyes meeting her'sand searching for something to ask. One particular question was eating at me.

"Where are your parents?" I asked, trying to sound as gentle as possible when asking that question.

"Good question" she chuckled, "One that leads to all".

I rolled my eyes but smiled still, happy that she would have to tell me everything. I couldn't be the only one who poured my heart out here.

"My dad's dead" she sighed, smiling distantly as if remembering something. "Mum's in prison".

My hand didn't leave her's.

"

My sister worked a lot, like a whole lot to make ends meet but she just couldn't afford for us to stay together anymore so I moved here" she said, "I work at the restaurant too, you remember Sal's-- My mum's place".

Silence enveloped us for a few moments until Rachel spoke up.

"Wanna hug?" she asked, giving her annoyingly adorable puppy dog eyes. I really was considering it but then I didn't. I frowned and pushed her away.

"Maybe next time, Jones".