ROSEMARY•THYME

     “Oh,” Trayson chuckled softly, “You can’t tell me you give a rat’s ass about wasting people’s time.”

     “I’d wager it has a little something to do with Mr. Warner, right?” He flashed a grin before raising a finger to his lips, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

    “I do.  Especially when it’s someone I care about.”

     Trayson snorted, watching her with a glimmer of amusement, “I’m sure they has.”

     “And, well, you’re not wrong.”

    “That’s kinda what I figured, yeah.”

     “Ah, yes. Humble isn’t in your dictionary. Overrated to include, if you ask me.”

     “Very nicely. Based on fantastic taste, it’s safe to say your man didn’t help you pick out your thank you for murdering when my husband won’t gift either? What is it they say? Opposites attract? Or… bide time until the whole building comes burning down, right? I’m mildly offended this is our first conversation in a while, especially since the last was you asking me for a favor.”

    “I’m sorry.  Things have been kind of... crazy since then.”

     “Sure you’re not.”

     “Though I won’t argue with your other point.”

     “Mrs. Warner…” A corner of Trayson’s lips perked up in a grin as he took a step closer.

     “Are you flirting with me?”

    “I’m not flirting.”

     “Yes, well… I need things. Therefore… I shop.”

     “Your husband, on the other hand, it seems, has you. How fortunate! Married life seems to be working out — at least, for him, whose furniture and such magically appear.”

    “Works out for me, too.  If I left it up to him, I’d come home to the most basic, boring shit ever and I refuse to live like that.”

    “Yes. I was aware,” Trayson snickers, eyeing her with mild amusement.

     He abandoned both options, sticking the soap dispensers back on the shelves before his attention returned to her with a quirk of a brow, “No husband shopping with you today?”

    “Not really his kind of store.”

     “Gaudy?”

     “My dear, I don’t touch gaudy anything.” 

    “Maybe gaudy was a bit of an exaggeration.”

     “Hey…” Trayson swirled one of the items he was holding in the air to gain the attention of someone passing, who he assumed worked there — or rather, didn’t care if they did or not. Nor did he care about the opinions of others, but he was bored and in the midst of tasks that were, in his opinion, beneath him. “Which one?”

    From behind a shelf, Harlee heard a familiar voice that had her head snapping up.  She peeked around the corner and there was Trayson, asking some stranger their opinion.

   “’Kay.” One final drag, and Remi leaned over to the nightstand again, dropping the filter into the glass before sinking back down onto the mattress. The lethargy hadn’t let go of him yet, blanketing his insides in a comfortable warmth and making lying down the only thing that felt worth doing for the next few hours.

    “’Kay,” she echoed.  For a moment, she considered bringing up Oliver.  What Luka had said.  Do you think I don’t love you as much because of him?  Do you think he means more to me somehow?  But he was tired and she’d already forced him to stay up to talk to her for too long.  They could talk about it another day.  She leaned forward to kiss his cheek.  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

   “Then text me ‘bout everyone.”

   “I don’t care. ’Long as it keeps more shit from happenin’.”

    “Okay.”

   “I don’t need to know ‘bout everybody.”

   “Just… ‘f you’re gonna hang out with ‘em ‘r whatever.”

     Another drag. Remi exhaled slowly, watching her.

   “Y’can ask me, too. If I don’t know ‘em, I got people for this kinda shit.”

    At first, the idea of asking him about someone didn’t seem all that appealing.  If she was conditioned to look for the best in everyone, Remi was conditioned to look for the worst.  But, even if he didn’t necessarily like someone’s personality, she didn’t think he’d discourage her from being their friend if they were otherwise okay.  And there was no one she trusted more to keep her — and Colie — safe.

   “I told ya. Ask around.”

   “'N if nobody knows ‘em, assume they’re up to some shit.”

   “’N I told ya a million times y’couldn’t trust me.”

   “So… bein’ who y’are ‘s more important than Colie’s wellbein’? Y’ain’t even gonna try?”

    “Yeah, and good thing I didn’t listen to you.”

   “’N I’m sayin it ain’t different ‘cause the fact that y’apparently don’t think he’s dangerous proves the fuckin’ point!”

   “Y’hung out with a guy who literally agreed to kill ya. Max’s lied to ya ‘bout massive fuckin’ shit ‘n y’still trust ‘im. People need to show ya what they deserve. Y’can’t just give it all to ‘em on blind fuckin’ faith ‘n hope they don’t fuck ya over — ‘cause they will.”

    “If I didn’t do that, we might not be here right now.  You didn’t exactly give me a lot of reasons to forgive you, or trust you, but I did because I’ve always believed in the goodness in you and that you deserved to have someone see it.”

   “Ain’t that the fuckin’ point? You don’t think it’s about who you’re with — ‘cause y’trust everybody — but it is.”

    “That’s not what I’m saying.  I’m saying it was different because I wasn’t lying to you because it was Arin.  I lied to you because I knew the situation was unsafe.”