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It had been three days since he slid the drawing under her door, and he hadn't seen her since. He was starting to worry, but Abigail just brushed it off, saying it was perfectly normal for her to disappear for the weekend. A knot was tied in his stomach, and he couldn't shake it off. He had been really worried about her. But now she was sleeping on the sofa, buried beneath a pile of blankets, her golden hair and her dark eyebrows being the only visible part of her.   

As he sat down beside her, he could hear her drawing in deep, steady breaths. She was asleep. "It's good to have you home." He whispered, brushing away a couple of hair strands from her forehead. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes.

Why was he still so afraid of her, why did his heart still race at a million miles per hour every time he saw her? He sighed again, and reached for the teapot on the table. He put sugar and lemon in a cup and blended the tea in before he took a sip. And spat it out again immediately.

"Did you really expect it to be regular tea?" A small voice chuckled from beside him. "What the hell is this," he dabbed his chin dry, and still felt the liquid burn in his mouth. "Oh, calm down. It's only 22%" She took the cup out of his hand and took a sip.

"IS IT VODKA?" He screamed, and she shushed him. "Of course it is. Kieran and Leith were supposed to come over for our monthly tea party, but they ditched me." He watched her take another sip, and said: "Should you be drinking? It's a Sunday after all." "Stop judging me, I haven't had a drink for about four days." That made him furrow his brow a bit. "You've been partying for two days, and you tell me you haven't had a drink?" "I haven't been partying."

"Then what have you been doing?" He asked. " Planting flowers." He decided not to question her, and a thick silence fell between them. "You know?" She finally said. "One of my new years resolutions was to not turn into an alcoholic." "And how's that working out for you?" He asked. "Terribly bad." She said, and laughed.

He laugh was contaminating, and soon he felt himself chuckling along to the clucking river that was her voice.

"I'm home!" Abigail shouted as she closed the front door behind her. Their laughter stopped abruptly, and Adelaide stood up. "Good night," she whispered. "And thank you for the flowers"     

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