Skinny Dipping -H.S

Scarlett.

    "What are you doing?" She calls out.

    "Washing your clothes." I reply.

    "You can't wash my Jimothy sweater, I made it!" She shouts, sitting up too quickly.

    "I could tell you made it. It's handwashing in my sink right now darling. Lay back down." I nod my head to her, and she sighs in relief, throwing herself down. "But now I have to know.. What is a Jimothy sweater, and why does that sound familiar?" I ask her, walking around my counter, and back into the living room.

    "Jimothy, like the coffee shop." She tells me.

    "I know the shop, it's where we met again... I just don't understand how the sweater is a Jimothy sweater." I shake my head, sitting next to her.

    "Jimothy is this man I made up... I draw him all the time, and I.. you know what I'll just show you." She looks around, and I see her eye her bag. I get up for her, and grab it, bringing it back to her. She reaches inside, and pulls out a sketchbook, and she opens it, just to the first page. It's a detailed drawing of an old man, he's got a cool mustache, an incredibly detailed and fun sweater, and a monocle too. She drew texture on his baggy pants, but he's incredibly stylish for an older man.

    "This is Jimothy?" I ask her, and she nods.

    "I went to the coffee shop, like... all the time, and I always imagined the owner to be this cool dude named Jimothy that dressed like he robbed a thrift store. That's where my Jimothy drawings came from. There's one hanging in my living room." She tells me, shoving the sketchpad off of her lap. I flip through, and see this isn't only a few drawings. There's hundreds of Jimothy's.. All unique and fun, and fashionable in their own way. She's got a good style with these drawings, and I can see part of her own style peeking through in what the fictional old man wears.

    "These are really good Scar... Did you use these for your intern approval?" I ask, and she shakes her head no.

    "Oh god no. That devil of a woman would have laughed at these and then shredded them before she got the chance to cry at how bad she thinks they are. She's a bitter woman. She hates me, and I am insanely positive that she is never going to pass me." Scarlett rants and I shake my head, still looking at the old man on the sketch pad.

    "These are new, and exciting while also showcasing an old and retro element... You truly are the kind of person I would write about darling..." I speak my mind, and turn to look at her, wishing I hadn't... That was a bit forward I guess.. Things go quiet between the two of us, and she shakes her head, and puts her chin in her hands.

    "Why did you really leave Harry?" She asks me straight up, no games, no playing around. "I just mean.. I mean why did you tell me what you did, and then leave me like that?" She asks, and I feel a pang of guilt in my chest.

    "I didn't leave because you weren't interested.. I wanted... I needed to go back home anyway. I planned to go home either way I just.. I didn't think I could go back to England without telling you how I felt Scarlett, and I'm not sorry about that." I admit.

    "I blamed myself for you leaving you know?"

    "No I didn't know.. You stopped talking to me." I turn it back around.

    "I stopped talking to you because while you turned around to go back home, you forgot to look around and realize that some people around you thought of you as a home.." She tells me.

    "And I understand that Scarlett but you can't hate me, and hold me responsible for your feelings.. I lo... I was so close with you, and your sister, and I counted on you just the same, but.. But I had to take care of myself.. And I wouldn't be where I am today if I hadn't gone back home to my family." I admit. I was never the first person to take care of myself but going home was the first step in that... It was the first step in really making sure I was doing right by myself and within that I was able to do right by everyone around me.. I want to show her that now. I'm afraid it's a little too late for that.