Shouldn’t you be cleaning up downstairs first? The bar is filthy. How are you going to attract customers when your place looks like dump?
Why don’t you take it up to the man that owns the place, I’m not the fuckin’ maid and you’re sure as hell not allowed up here either.
Do you not think it’s sad at the fact that we have become so accustomed to this?
Well…I do, but I don’t think we should think about it too much and mourn over it. I mean if you’re going to be like that why not mourn over every imperfection in this town? It’s a endless cycle mate, rather not go into it.
Cook rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna die if we choose the right spider, Charles. And wouldn’t ya want to be Spider Girl? I mean all that web stuff, swinging from buildings to buildings. You’re gonna be a badass motherfucker, Babe. And phew,” he exhaled with a whistle, the smirk in his face a teasing one, “Darling, that skin-tight suit. It would look great on ya. Hmmm-mmm,” he finished, biting his lip and nodding appreciatively while pretending to check her out…well sorta pretending and sorta actually doing it.
He detected the concern in her voice, and he appreciated it, he really did. But the thing was, he didn’t know if he actually wanted to linger on those depressing thoughts that plagued his mind. He knew it was cowardice always just running away from depressing stuff like that, but was it his fault that he wanted to forget about it every once in a while? It wasn’t even like it was a problem that needed a solution, it was just something that weighed his mood down. So really, what better to do about it than to just distract himself from it? “I’m just sorta a bit down,” he said truthfully. There was no point in lying to Charlie. She’d know when he was lying to hide the pain because it was a look she knew by heart, a look she always saw in front of a mirror, so really, there was no point. “But you know, I really just want to forget about that drama. Sooo…distract me! Come on, Charles!” he cheered. “Let’s have fun!” And then he looked around and saw how dirty their place was and then he made a face. “But this place needs cleaning. I thought you’ve been cleaning, love? What the hell is this?” He couldn’t help but tease her, but it wasn’t insulting, it was just plain teasing. “I swear, you’re so slow, if you went any slower on this, you’d be going backwards. Your Cheshire poshness about cleaning is showing,” he said as he playfully tapped the tip of her nose. “Come on, I’m gonna help you clean up here instead. That way we’ll finish faster.”
"But what are the chances of that? Christ Cook, you never look at the fuckin’ ratios. You’re gonna get yourself in a whole world of trouble with that "betting on chance" mentality. As if you haven’t already." She said, almost too knowingly for such a playful tone. She punched his arm for the last comment and said in a stern tone, "Oi, wanna spend a little less time time lookin’ at my tits and a little more fixing up what used to be your room? I looked over there earlier and let me tell you — I’d rather sleep in Amanda Bynes’ hair. Have you seen that nest, Cook? It ain’t made of roses and I’m sure as hell it don’t smell like it either.".
It was a nice change not having to fight the truth out of him. Over the past few months the two learned it was entirely useless just to go in circles around the bloody bush just to find themselves exhausted in the end. Right down the line, these two would be, they both promised and Charlie intended to keep it that way. Her eyes never left Cook seeing at any moment he could show a sign of his raw emotion and then go right back to his meddlesome facade. When he finally admitted to her, her hand rubbed his arm slowly before he soon had a quick change of attitude. “Christ one of these days you’re going to give me a real bad case of whiplash you know that? And they say it’s the women that are supposed to be like that. Sexist sayings if you ask me.” She says, throwing her hands slightly as if to say she gave up on keeping the subject of why he’s upset. Let him have his fun, she thought. It was a rare variety to see him like this anyway. “Hey! I lived there for a majority of sixteen years it’s not my fault the maids did all the work. Even then I’m doing a better job than you.” She laughed, hip-checking him out his spot so she can pick up the dust pan from under the bed, walking over to find the broom leaning against the wall. “You can start by brooming while I make the bed, and replace the sheets.” She gave instructions almost like a mother, even though she meant well messy areas never made her a calm person. In fact you could say Charlie had a slight OCD with these things when she really minded it. Especially when she’s doing the work herself.
I—I dunno, I thought you bloody just got sick of Bristol’s cock up your arse and fled. Like, I can’t blame you. It’s stellar shit here. I kinda did the same thing a couple weeks back. Got out and stretched my existentialism a bit.
The one and only. Unless you count the Charlie Brown one. Though I’d like to think people prefer me over the cartoon with a pube on its head.
I heard that’s a bit of a trend ‘round here, innit? People come and go, it’s almost a fucking chain. Well anyways enough with your anal analogies, how the hell have you been?
Obviously, yes. Why are you doing this to him? Why are you making him run away again? What is it that you want?
He has mentioned him. I don’t know why you brought that up though.
I had to visit family and I needed him with me because sometimes you just can’t bare through shit alone. Sorry I’m not pushing people away like it’s no secret you do the same. Last time I checked my personal business with Cook is none of yours. Why do you suddenly care?
Because you’re asking me why my reputation is far too ruined to care about. That’s your answer.
You can always visit the lab down at Anchor, although I’m not quite convinced it’s that type of lab.
That’s funny. Should I be making an appointment with a certain Mr. Pinkman?
I think you know the answer to that.
You talkin’ about me and Cook? I don’t really see the problem, did something bad happen while we were gone? Cos I feel like I’m missing something big here, and it’s not the best feelin’ in the world.
You know why. Cook should’ve told you about Louie by now, I mean aren’t you close with him?
Who would have known Bristol’s hospital is busier than the one in Massachusetts? Not to mention majority of the people who need to be taken care of can’t receive help because they can’t afford it.
That’s just life innit? It’s sad, but well — it’s always been like that,
Well it’s too late now. Better go big or go home. And hope if you do get something, you can fight it off.
If I learned anythin’ from my nanny was that nothing can beat a good chicken soup. The thing is, living under a roof of only men and being the only female there, I’m afraid they’ll just warm up some microwave meal and leave me to die.