She raised a finger, a small smile on her face. "I didn't give the key away," she corrected. "I told the cleaning staff that I was leaving, but I never actually gave away the key."
"Hmph. Fine then. I suppose I'll have to respect your privacy, even though it would be totally hilarious," he sighed. "When are you supposed to take it?"
"I think I'm going to take it this morning, and it will have hopefully worn off by the time we have to head to the meeting," she said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. She stood up and stretched out her arms before looking down at him. "Would you like to come?"
"Yeah, I'll tag along," he said, standing up. "So are you really going to long yourself in your room?"
She watched him for a moment before sighing. "No, probably not" she admitted. "I mean, someone needs to make sure that I don't drink mouthwash."
"Okay," he said. "I promise not to take a video. Does that work? Not like I can use the watch anyways."
"Hm," she said, eyeing him critically. "Fine. Thank you." She walked over to the door, yawning slightly. "I'm going to go get changed, okay?" she said, her hand on the doorknob. "I'll be back."
She watched his back adoringly for a moment before leaving the room, closing the door with a click behind her. (Should I have Evan confront her in the hallway hmmmm)
Poppy quickly pulled on a loose, rusty red t-shirt, her fingers grazing the scar where she had been pierced by the glass. She considered it as she pulled up her jeans. So much had changed since then. Everything had changed. She opened the door and froze. Evan was standing outside her door, hand raised as if he were about to knock. In his hand were peonies, wrapped in spring green tissue paper. "Oh, hi," he said, flustered. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and then offered the flowers to her. "These are for you. Peonies; your favorite." She didn't take them and cocked her head, one hand resting on the doorway and the other holding the door open. "What are you doing here, Evan?" Her voice was tired, but her grip on the door tightened, her body tense. He frowned and dropped his hand. "Poppy, I..." He trailed off and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to talk to you. Without that Craw guy. Just you and me. Like old times." She shook her head before the sentence was finished. She stepped outside her door and closed it, heading to Francis' room. "I don't want anything to do with you, Evan. Leave us alone." He grabbed her arm and pulled her back harshly and she turned towards him furiously. "Let me go." "Poppy, sweetheart, please," he begged, his soft voice contrasting with his tight grip. "Think of how it was. Think of how we used to be." "Evan, I swear to God. Let go of my arm." "Baby, come on. Are you telling me that you don't think about it?" "I have found someone that I love more than I ever loved you," she said, her voice rough with anger. "Let. Me. Go."
Francis got dressed, but paused. His expression turned to a scowl as he pressed his ear to the door. He trusted Poppy, but wanted to hear what he had to say.
He laughed, but his voice was turning angry too. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, pulling her closer. "Do you think he wants to marry you? Do you really think that someone like him could love someone like you? God, Poppy. I can't believe you'd be so stupid." "I swear to God, Evan. Let me go." "No. No, because someone needs to set you straight. Someone needs to tell you what a huge mistake you're making. Someone who cares about you." "You do not care about me," she said, her voice trembling. "I am happy. With a person I love. You need to leave me alone. If you cared about me, you would do that." "I don't care about you? For Christ's sake, Poppy. I'm trying to save you from this guy! Why can't you see that?" Francis would hear a sharp intake of breath from Poppy as Evan's grip tightened. "Ow. Ow. Let go." "Oh, is this hurting you?" he challenged. "Why don't you think about how much you're hurting me? Why is it that you can't think about that?" "Because I don't love you!" she replied, trying to pull herself away. Her words grew faster as she tried not to panic. "From the very moment we arrived on this ship you have proven to me that you are desperate, unkind, and spiteful. I do not know how I can make this much clearer to you. I. do. not. love. you. Now let me go!" In that moment, he hit her. She cried out, a mixture of surprise and pain, and he let her go as she fell to the floor. (It's weird. I really do think Evan thinks he's the good guy here. Like he's trying to save her from herself or something.)
Francis flung the door open, his expression fuming. He gave it no thought, and hastily took sharp steps towards Evan before punching him straight in the jaw as hard as he could.
Evan stumbled backward, clearly not expecting the attack. Poppy was laying on the ground, her elbow propping her up while her other hand rubbed her face. She blinked several times, trying to focus.
(Did he slap her, or actually hit her?) He glanced back at Poppy, his expression concerned. "Are you okay?"
(Actually hit her.) She blinked up at him, slightly bewildered. "I-I think so," she said, her hand to her head.
(Makes me so mad.) He turned back to Evan, giving him a deadly stare. "I'm not letting you leave without injury this time."
