Warrior Twilight 2

'Mmm... is that pancakes? Or maybe waffles... oh, I think I smell sausage!' Brooklyn, with her eyes still closed, tried to figure out just what she was smelling. By the time her stomach growled at her for food for the third time, she finally opened her eyes and sat up. She sniffed deeply and realized that it was McDonnalds breakfast. Had Jordan gott--?

This morning, she didn't even try to contain her tears. She only got to two sobs, though, before Mike came rushing in.
"Hey, hey, don't' cry, look, I got you breakfast!"
She wiped one of her cheeks and gasped in, trying to get in enough air so she wouldn't pass out.
"You want some McDonalds?" he asked tenderly.
"Mmhm." She nodded.
He rushed back into the kitchen to grab the bag. "Here, I got you a McGriddle, they always make me feel better," he cooed, like he always did to his little nephew whenever she would cry, after sitting quickly back down on the couch, pulling it and a hash-brown out and giving them to her.
She grabbed the sandwich and managed to get one large bight in her mouth, but her tears got all over the rest of the sandwich, which only made her cry more, so Mike took the sandwich from her and simply held her.
"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay," he whispered, stroking her hair.
"No-," she sobbed. "No it's not. He's gone, He's-, gone."

Brooklyn cried on him like that for a few minutes, Mike patiently waiting for her to feel better.
Eventually she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. "Thank-you so much Mike, you've been so nice to me," she gushed, his honest kindness something she had never encountered before.
"Oh, don't worry about it, it's no problem!" He smiled at her, and then pushed a strand of her hair, which was hanging over her face, behind her ear.
Which was when Brooklyn realized, "Oh no, I must look terrible," and then immediately started combing her fingers through her long, straight, dirty blond hair, which, unknown to her, was actually impossible to 'mess up'.
He stopped her. "No, you really look beautiful."
Her face turned a surprised shade of light pink, and then he instantly wished he could take it back. I mean, what was he doing? Trying to flirt with a girl who's fiance had just died. "I-I mean-,"
"No," she cut him off. "Thank-you. But really though, I should probably take a shower."
"Oh, yeah. I'd say I'd leave you alone, but you should probably try and stay occupied, yaknow, take your mind off things."
"Yeah," she agreed, her mind already drifting as it was.
"Hey, how about we got to Port Angeles or something? Walk around and stuff."
"That would be fun." She smiled.
"Okay, I'll be back by the time you get out of the shower, okay?"
"Okay."
"Break!" he shouted, and then ran for the door.
She laughed. Mike really was a sweet guy. A lot sweeter than--.

Brooklyn stopped, and tried to keep her mind on happier things until Mike came back, which proved to be a lot harder to do than she thought it could.
She got up and walked slowly upstairs and into the bathroom. There, right on the hook, hung Jordan's towel. It took a bit for her to move again, unsure on whether or not she should put it in the hamper or not.... Ultimately, she decided to just leave it there. It was much too soon to move on like that.

Brooklyn stripped and then got into the shower, the water on as hot as she could bear. With her forehead on the cold tile, she let it rinse away the tension in her body. She would have staid like that forever, but eventually the hot water started to run out, so she quickly washed herself, and then got back out. With the towel around herself, she looked in the mirror.

Honestly, Brooklyn looked pitiful. Her makeup hadn't fully washed away, and it staid under and around her eyes, giving her a slight wan look, which made her look about as depressed as she actually was. Not only that, but her eyes where a bright shade of red. She had been crying in the shower and hadn't even known it.
She turned, and went out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom. She took one step in and stopped.

The bed was still unmade. She could see the imprint of where his body had been, the last time they had been together. Just one night ago.
His clothes where still on the floor, littered and strewn across the carpet, just like any other morning. She'd always tell him to put them in the hamper but... none of that mattered now.

Brooklyn decided to find something to put on elsewhere.