"Why am I here?"  Evangeline asked.

Todd's first thought was how in the hell do I know.  His second was she doesn't really want an answer.  Saying nothing he walked around her giving them each time to work out her reasons for coming to see him.  He knows if he waits long enough, pushes enough buttons, she will lead them to the why.   Waiting is hard for him and playing twenty questions has never been his style.   But he'll do whatever it takes.  Jump through whatever hoops are required so that they can be on the same page.  

He almost struts with pride, almost at the thought that she came to him.   Not to her ex's or her best friend Nora or her sister Layla.  But to him.  So he listens, waits.

"...why are you making this so hard?  You make everything so hard....I hate feeling this way...I don't get it...what is this?  Everything was perfect and everything got messed up and I don't understand how it happened.  I don't know what happened, but I think it was you.  You messed it up." She shouts at him.

He had expected that.  Not the words per se, but the frustration and anger behind them.   Secretly he is pleased at the look of frustration on her face because now she too knows that after today, whether they defined what is happening between them or not, they are connected in a different way.  That the façade she has maintained for so long and so hard, is crumbling away.   

He watches her watching him.  Waiting for him to be what everyone has pronounced him to be, "Todd Manning", major screw-up and psychopath.   Waiting for him to give her any excuse to keep him cosigned to her "he is just a friend" collection, along with Christian and John. 

He moves closer to her, getting as close as she will allow, enjoying everything about her; her sudden nervousness at his closeness, her strength of will, her sense of humor, even her loyalty to her newest ex.   The smell of something lemony and sophisticated draws him closer and his instinct tells him that patience will earn him the prize.

"Say something." She asks somewhat anxiously.

He is determined not to ruin the tenuous bond between them with mumbled excuses and fake apologizes.  So he does what he does best, plays the court jester.   

"I'm sorry.  You'll find someone else.  How am I doing so far?" he quips.

It works and he basks in her reluctant smile.  

"Can...I just like hang out here for a little while?  I mean, lately, the only time I'm happy is when I'm with you?"

Though they were separated by concrete, he can feel her connection to him deepening and he is filled with an assortment of emotions vastly different for his usual quagmire of perceptions and beliefs.   He is relieved that she is not reviving her relationship with Christian. Pleased that she is content to be with him.  Encouraged that he has a firmer hold on that place reserved for those she cares about.   So he stays silent.  Waiting. 

‘I've got to get over this."

He ignores her meaning behind the words.  Hard lessons have taught him not to depend upon a future that may not happen or to dwell too long on a past he can no longer control.  Instead he validates the words and actions between them in the minutes and seconds ticking away around them.    Trusting in what he sees and feels: that her lips are a fingertip away and she has not denounced him; that the light of her soul will not be diminished by the darkness constantly warring inside him; that her skin is soft no matter where he touches and she does not flinch or push away his hand; that the friendship between them will change numerous times before it becomes what it is truly meant to be and she has accepted that with a softly spoken.

"Thank you,"

"Anytime," He replies with a smile.