Thread: This Skin is Stained

A long silence fell between them. He...wasn't quite sure how to handle this. This...this had been the main reason this hadn't happened for so long, and had God been willing, this meeting wouldn't have ever happened again at all. This fear had persisted all these months since the funeral, this fear that she held him accountable for what had happened. Had he imagined it that day, seeing her face? He liked to think it, but the truth was a bitch, and he could never shake the thought for very long. This was why he hadn't sought her out in all this time. This was why he'd done his damndest to avoid her. This feeling, this fucking moment. This right here. The bottle had been so much easier to talk to. Maybe it was time he had another relapse. Yeah, he had his demons too. Alright, he spoke softly following the lengthy pause, I guess you don't want to gently tiptoe around this, do you? Alright. I can drop the concerned friend tone. Looking down, then looking away, Daniel brought the coffee to his lips for a moment. Then he leaned ran a hand through his shortish dirty blonde hair again before sitting back in the chair, reclining with a slight squeak. I can talk to you like a jackass if you want. Or what about a father figure kinda approach? Or my favorite, the scared straight routine. That's the one where I fill you with facts until you don't fucking do this shit anymore. This was the way he'd probably speak to those two knucklehead kids before they were released in the morning. He'd rather take a softer, more tender tone with Danica if she cared to really pay attention maybe she'd see that. But if this was how it was gonna be, that worked too. He was used to getting firm like this. Right now, to him, she was just another whore. What is today, Sunday? Yeah. You know, we don't really have days of the week here like everyone else does. We have days, yeah, but it's pretty fucking dismal with the kinda shit we deal with in this job, you know? We don't have seven different days here, we really only have two we have days some poor hooker is found killed and ditched somewhere, and then we have what we call 'good days.' But god damn, he wouldn't be a man if he didn't admit, at least to himself, what a hot piece she was just sitting over there. She'd always been beautiful though. The smoking was classless, but right now so was the rest of her. ...Did the skankiness make her more or less hot? Daniel just shook his head. I thought you were smarter than this. Hell, I thought you were smart in general. Definitely smarter than this. His eyes went to the Ziploc bag in front of him. He turned a few of the bottles within the plastic, reading off the labels. Whew, a single, drawn out whistle, some of these aren't much, but you've got a few serious ones mixed in here too. You know, a little more than two weeks ago I was the first officer on the scene of some young girl that OD'd at her parents' house, and she didn't even have quite this much. ...I bet you can handle more than her, though. Now here's a question Do you think that's something to be proud of or to be ashamed of? Then another question popped into his head. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her and hate him if you would, but right now he was in a mode. Right now, he was working. Danica. I can see your bruises from here. ...Who's hurting you?