Angels (Pavel Chekov)

7 - Lines

It's in the library that Vienna decides to ask more questions. She thinks about what she could start asking, when he gets up, telling her he'll be back in a minute. His journal is open again. She follows him with her eyes as he goes. She looks at his journal, taking her PADD from her bag.

That's when Vienna does something both good and bad at the same time. She take a few photos. That day's pages, the pages from the day before and the day they went to the city together. She feels herself sweating as she puts her PADD back into her bag, even though he's nowhere in sight. He comes back and she just smiles at him, going back to her study. She feels her stomach churn uncomfortably.

It takes a few hours for Vienna to finally bring herself to look at the photos and translate them. She knows she's doing the wrong thing. She knows she shouldn't be prying into his life but something tells her that she needs to, that there's a reason she's so desperate to see what's written. She puts her PADD down and has a shower, trying to clear her mind a little.

Vienna comes back to her PADD and picks it up, not hesitating this time. She starts with the page from the day they spent in the city together, drumming her fingers against the desk anxiously as she waits for it to load. His handwriting is so small and neat. It seems to suit his personality.

She skips to the last paragraph, a few lines in it catching her attention.

'Today was beautiful and I finally felt calm. It's the first clean night I've had in a while. I can't help but hope more days like these will continue.'

She thinks she gets it then. A clean night, that he must be a drug addict. It could be plausible with how smart he is, that he could just be bored, wanting something else to do with his time. She picks up her bag and puts her PADD into it. She wonders if she felt compelled to read it to stop an overdose or something. Panic starts settling in, she leaves her dorm and heads for his, wondering what she'll say when she gets there.

Waiting for him to open the door seems to take an eternity and a half. She wonders if her suspicions are right, that he's in there getting high or something. He opens the door, surprised to see her on the other side.

"Vienna?"

"Hey," she says softly. He looks a little flustered, like he's anxious or something. "I'm sorry for showing up at this hour. I... Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you."

"Sure," he says, stepping to the side so she can enter. He runs his hands through his hair as he closes the door.

Vienna realises she needs to think of some kind of excuse quickly. He seems sober, that's apparent. She thinks her hunch may have been wrong. She looks to him and realises that she really wasn't imagining how flustered he looks.

"Pavel, are you alright?"

He looks over to her, his dark blue eyes looking more like a shallow grey. "Ah, yeah sorry."

"Did I come at a bad time?"

He looks away biting the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself together.

"Pavel?"

He walks away from where she's sitting, going into the kitchen and getting a glass of water. He drinks it, yet to make eye contact with her again. He puts the glass down, trying to think of something to say.

"What happened, Pavel?"

He takes a seat beside her, his perfect posture bothering her more than she cares to admit. He doesn't know where to start until the words simply push themselves out of his mouth. "Damien's group were pushing me around. They called me Jerk-off again."

She notices the way his hands grip the bottom of his hoodie tightly and rest on top of his knees.

"Do you know why?"

He shakes his head. "I know I shouldn't be this bothered by it. That they're just trying to provoke me but..."

His lip quivers a little, Vienna notices it. He brushes his hair from his eyes and Vienna's gaze locks onto his sleeve. The pale grey of his hoodie is faintly stained, and she reaches for his arm, her mind going quiet.

"Vienna," he says quickly, pulling his arm away. "I'm sorry, you said you had something you wanted to talk about. I shouldn't be sitting here complaining instead."

She ignores his comment, looking up into his eyes before reaching for his sleeve again. He stands up abruptly.

"I'm sorry, it's late. I'm just tired from today, maybe you should come back tomorrow."

"Pavel," she says softly, looking up at him. She stands, trying to think of what to say. "You know you can trust me. You can show me, Pavel. I'm not going to judge you."

He finally meets her eyes again and she's reasonably sure that they're watering. He doesn't say anything. One part of him knows not to argue, not to try and push her away like his mind is screaming at him to do. He just takes a step towards her and offers his arm. She takes it gently and pulls his sleeve up, showing what she already feared was there. She inspects his arm, sighing to herself.

(Author's Note)

It's surprisingly hard not to just put up like the next fifteen chapters I've written all at once
Comment your thoughts please and thanks ✌️