Take This to Your Grave and I'll Take It to Mine

Soon enough Peter, Patrick, Joe and I were at my place packing up shop. Deciding what goes, and what doesn't matter.

My clothes had already been put into boxes and I was moving my black dresser that was as tall as me with little difficulty.

"Er, what are you doing? Do you need help?" Pete ran over to me trying to help me.

"I have important things behind this." I got it all the way out of the way out of the way and it exposed a wall with a black sheet over it.

So one would think.

"Ok a black sheet. Is that really important?" He gave me a look like I grew three heads.

"The blind see so little." I smirked at him and tore the sheet down.

It revealed my weapon room.

It wasn't a big room, just big enough for them all.

The back wall held all my swords, the left wall had my battle axes and lots of specialty weapons, the right wall had all my bows; crossbows, longbows, whatever tickles your fancy, and my self made table in the middle of the tiny room had room for all of my knives; butterfly knives, throwing knives, switch blades, daggers, the works.

"Holy crap Erin! We might have to do a load of just your weapons." Joe was utterly shocked when he saw my arms room with enough weapons for a small army.

"I'll wear as many as I can and then we can figure out what to do with the rest." I suggested just to try to make life easier.

I grabbed my boots because those things could hold a lot of knives.

I strapped my katana on my back, two knives on each thy, and in my boots 5 knives and two daggers in each boot.

"Well I hate to tell you this Erin, but you still have a lot more weapons." Patrick said in that 'I'm sorry your an idiot' voice.

"But you do look really hot with all those weapons strapped to you." Pete said with his eyes glued to my body traveling up and down.

"Why are you looking at me like that Pete?" I was terrified that this would give away our secret.

"I'm imagining you in your underwear." He smirked.

Right then I kicked him where it hurts. He fell to the ground clutching his package.

"And I'm imagining you standing up straight." I said icily crossing my arms in success.

Patrick and Joe were laughing so hard I thought they would piss their pants.

"Patrick and me will start carrying boxes down to the car." Joe said as he stacked one big box on another and picking them up and heading out.

He's pretty strong.

Patrick grabbed a box and followed.

Pete stood up, regaining his composure, moved closer to me forcing me to move back, up against the wall.

He moved even closer so he was right up against me.

"I love your hair." He said as he twirled my hair around his fingers. He started running his hand threw my long, wavy, black hair.

"Pete get off of me." I said with a firm voice.

"But I love to be on you." I hear the smirk in is voice and I could feel it on my ear.

He kissed my neck.

"Peter!" I shoved him so hard he hit the opposite wall and that's not close. "Don't touch me."

I grabbed another empty box and started throwing my smaller weapons in there.

"When can I move my coffin? I don't care to take the bed." The others walked in right as I asked.

"Well since that's the only big thing your taking we have an old beat up mini van that we'll come back with. So you can put all of your big weapons in your coffin." Patrick is a lifesaver; Pete would have brought the other topic back up if they wouldn't have walked in.

"Yeah, since everything is already packed we'll all carry it down, then you guys drive this car back and bring the van back. Once everything is at your place we'll unload." I suggested trying to get Pete out of my hair for a while and during the time he was gone I could pack my weapons in the coffin, alone.

We all grabbed boxes and headed to the car.

We started to jam them into the, 'Bat Mobil' as I call it. It has the bat that matches Peter's tattoo on the hood.

He said he'd stay here with me to save room.

Great.

I was loading everything into my coffin.

"How many memories does this coffin hold?" Pete asked sort of out of the blue from beside my bed.

"I don't catch your meaning." I was unfazed and just continued.

"Like the memory it holds for us." I looked to him and he was looking straight in my eyes.

Now I get it.

"None. Our case was one of three in six hundred years. It never happened in my coffin before either." I just have to make him believe that it didn't matter.

Wait, what am I talking about?

It didn't!

"Erin what happened to this place?" Cleo walked out of the bathroom sleepily. "A cat tries to take a nap in the bathtub and everyone tries to ditch her."

"Well Cleo pack you’re shit, you’re moving to a house." Pete put on some fake excitement just for Cleo.

"Like a house with a yard where I won’t have to use a litter box?" Her excitement wasn't fake.

"Sure all you have to do is look out for Roxy." Pete responded.

"Who's Roxy?" I asked as quick as the name came out of his mouth.

"My dog, she's a Chihuahua."

That's interesting, who would have one of those things by choice.

"She's a rat? I can harass her!" Cleo is a sick and twisted individual. That's why she's with me.

"No you can't I love that dog!" Pete was defending a dog.

"Well, I won’t mess with it but the first time it bothers me it's war." I love Cleo; she's willing to compromise unlike me.

"Deal." Pete looked from me to Cleo. "So Cleo what type of men has this wild child been bringing home?"

"None. She hates people." That was blunt and amazingly honest. "But she does talk about what makes a person attractive." Cleo just had to say that last part to embarrass me.

"What makes a person attractive then?" This is what she knew would happen.

"She said, skin tone compared to eye color matters." She looked at his eyes. "She probably loves your eyes."

I sat frozen.

I can't believe she said that.

He turned to me with a smirk that was going non-stop. "You like my eyes?" His eyes locked with mine trying to hypnotize me with those honey/green colored eyes.

"Well, um, yes. But it's purely honest opinion. If Andrew had your eyes I'd find beauty
in them even though I hate him."

"Lies." Cleo coughed.

Pete with his smile still in tact looked at me. "Looks like someone doesn't believe you."

"Well the someone of whom you speak is about to be a stray cat with no tongue." I gave her a glare that was beyond compare.

"Hey this isn't my fault I was just telling the truth." She tried to defend herself which was just a lost cause.

"Well stop, nobody likes the truth." I hissed ready for this conversation to be over.

I walked to my bed and stood on it.

I closed the coffin, straddled it and grabbed the poles to lift it.

"Erin, what are you doing? Do you want help?" He came towards the bed.

"Peter! Leave me alone! I'll ask for help when I need it!" I had the coffin full of weapons out of its hole. I turned it enough so it wouldn't fall back in and sat it on the bed.

I jumped off the bed.

"Peter you are getting in my way. I got all this stuff myself. I carried it all up here myself. Just because I'm a female doesn't mean that I'm weak." I went back to my bed and pulled the coffin off and onto the floor.

"Why are you so proud?" He sounded a little hurt.

"All I have is my pride." I turned to Pete. "Pete, what's wrong? When did you eat last?"

He looked ill.

"It's been since last night before the jail cell." He started looking at my lips.

"No Pete just go home and eat." I didn't want what happened to happen again.

He got closer to me.

I tried to back up which landed me sitting on the coffin's flat lid.

"Just one kiss." He whispered.

And he was kissing me.

I used him I guess it was my turn.

He crawled on top of me, on top of the coffin.

His right hand freely moved on my left side, his left hand was keeping him balanced.

"Hey! I'm still here!" Thank you Cleo.

He broke his lips from mine.

I pushed him off of me and went into the bathroom.

Thank God I didn't forget to lock the door.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Peter was pounding on the door.

"Erin I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He called through the door.

"Yes you did. Call your place and have Joe and Patrick bring you your drink too." I called back.

"Ok Erin." He sounded slightly disappointed.

I sat on the floor next to the sink and couldn't stop the million things running through my head.

Why would he do that?

You did worse.

Why won’t he let go?

Why won’t you?

Why am I fighting myself?

Because you’re lying to yourself.

About what?

Don't give yourself that shit, you know.