𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻

VIII

Opie stared at the brunette standing in front of him, blinking his tired eyes a few times. He wasn't sure if he was still high and she was just a hallucination, or if this was just some fucked up dream. Opie continued to stare, committing every single detail of her to his memory before his high wore off, or he woke up and she disappeared again.

"Hi Harry." Her raspy voice broke him from his daze. Whatever the fuck was happening to him right now, dream or hallucination it was a damn good one. "Ope?" She spoke again, her eyes traveling to the gun at his side.

He tore his bloodshot eyes off of her, hoping when he looked back she wouldn't be gone. Opie looked down at the gun in his hand before tucking it into his waistband. "What are you doing here?" He finally found his voice, it was a bit shaky but, he was relieved when he looked back up she hadn't disappeared.

"Wendy." Amelia said simply, running a hand through her hair.

"Yeah that shit's been rough." Opie nodded. "You wanna come in?" He asked, stepping aside to make room for her.

"Uh, sure." She gave him a weak smile as she stepped inside the house.

Opie closed the door and was thankful for once he didn't have some random croweater over. "Fuck." He muttered, noticing Amelia's green eyes taking in the hurricane that was his house. The empty pizza boxes, broken whiskey bottle that still hadn't been cleaned up, and all the empty beer cans thrown all over. "Uh, didn't think I would be having company at this hour." It was his way of apologizing for his house looking like a frat house. "Watch were you step." He spoke, hearing the glass crunch under Amelia's shoes.

"Opie." Her voice was soft. He could hear the pity in it, and he hated it. "You shouldn't live like this."

He let out a scoff. Who was she to tell him how he should and shouldn't live? She didn't have a say in what he did anymore, she was the one who left him. She was the one who broke his fucking heart all those years ago, and left him with nothing but a fucking letter, and now she just shows up on his doorstep out of nowhere judging his life.

"I'm sorry my house isn't up to your standards but, my wife left me while I was doing five years in fuckin' Chino, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't feel like cleaning." He let out a bitter laugh while grabbing a half full bottle of whiskey off of the coffee table that had definitely seen better days. "You fuckin' left me too." He spat, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking a long swig of the dark liquid.

"I'm not here to fight Opie." Amelia sighed.

"Why the fuck are you here? When you left you made it better fuckin' clear that you didn't plan on ever coming back here, on coming back to me. I called you everyday and night, and you never picked up." Opie's voice was growing louder with each word he spoke. It was years of pent up emotions coming out all at once. There was no way for him to control it. He was torn between screaming at Amelia to 'get the fuck out' and kissing her.

"Don't act like I'm the only bad guy here, Harry." Amelia's voice was eerily calm. "Stop acting like the fucking martyr."

"I'm acting like a fuckin' martyr? A fuckin' martyr, Mila?" He winced at how easily his nickname for her spilled off his booze laced tongue. "You left me! You left me alone after everything we went through." Opie tightened his grip on the whiskey bottle, the alcohol wasn't helping with his anger if anything it was amplifying it.

"That's some real great selective memory you got there." Her laugh held no humor. "Maybe I should remind you why I left you." Amelia's anger was getting the of her now, unlike Opie though she didn't need the help of alcohol to open these old scars.

Opie sat down on the couch, drinking down whatever was left in the bottle. He didn't want Amelia to continue talking, he didn't want to relive their past. He relived it everyday since she left, and he knew he fucked everything up. It was just a hard truth for Opie to sallow.

"You weren't there for me when I needed you the most." Amelia's voice held years worth of resentment. "I, we had just lost-" Her voice trailed off, and it grew silent between the two, both of them refusing to look at each other. "I fucking needed you, and instead you were too busy fucking Donna." She spat the other woman's name like it was a poison.

"I needed you too!"

"No you didn't." Amelia shook her head as she walked towards the door, the glass crunching under her shoes once again. "You just needed some pussy so you could forget. You didn't want to deal with what happened and Donna helped you with that." Amelia opened the door, "don't worry Opie, I'll be out of your life again soon enough." She spoke not bothering to turn around and look at him. She knew if she did the tears would fall from her eyes.

Opie watched her walk out the door, it closing softly behind her. He threw the empty bottle against the wall, if he were a better man he'd go after her.
   
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(A/N: Thank you for all the votes! I really appreciate them!)