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“What?” Raven blinked a few times, guided herself out of the fog in her head. The barista in front of her, a young man with shaggy brown hair, intense eyebrows, and a less than amused expression on his face signed in annoyance. She narrowed her eyes. “What?” She repeated.
He shrugged lazily, rolled his eyes. “I asked if I could take your order.”
“Oh,” Her eyes softened and she pulled out her wallet. “A Venti peppermint hot chocolate with two shots of espresso and triple the whipped cream.” He nodded, punched in a few things on the register, then turned and prepared her order. She turned around and leaned against the counter, taking in the scenery and the sweet smell of pastries. The little college café, usually buzzing with overworked and sleep deprived students was nearly bear this evening. Which she was thankful for; she needed the quiet and solidarity to sort through her mind—and to work on her mechanical engineering paper.
“So, why did you stay here for the holidays?” The barista asked nonchalantly, his monotone voice laced with boredom as he mixed her way too sugary drink. Then he turned back to her and slid her drink across the counter.
She turned back towards him, grabbed her hot drink. “That’s none of your damn business.” Raven replied apprehensively. She gave him the money for the drink and then turned and made her way to the back of the café. She hadn’t meant to snap at him, really, but her sour mood was projecting onto the world.
Sipping her drink and shrugging it off, she sat down at the small, cozy back corner booth and began setting up her little space: laptop, text book, composition books full of chicken scratch notes. She was just about to start working when her phone hummed in her pocket. She took it out and smiled down at the screen.
From Princess: xmas party isn’t the same w/out you!!!
Attached to the text was a picture of Clarke and her girlfriend Lexa, both wearing Santa hats and holding up what Raven assumed to be spiked eggnog, her favorite. The brunette smiled slightly, sent a quick reply, and then focused her attention back to her paper. It wasn’t due until January, but she figured thinking about rocket science was better than feeling sorry for herself.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” A sad smile. “I can catch another flight and we can go back to the apartment to pack your things.” A cocked head to the side. “My mom would really like to see you.” Worried yet calculative blue eyes.
Clarke was persistent, Raven would give her that. She listened to her give that speech for two weeks, ever since Raven proclaimed that she would be staying in Chicago for Christmas. Clarke and Octavia objected, of course. “No one should be alone for the Holidays!” Octavia had exclaimed. “You know there’s plenty of room at my house.” Clarke had added. But Raven knew this; she knew both of those things, and as much as her friends begged her to go home with them, she stood firm in her decision.
Raven shook her head, gave a small half smile. “I’m just gonna stay in, watch some movies, catch up on some papers.” Indulge in pizza and beer. She thought happily. Clarke pursed her lips, slanted her eyes, stared at Raven long and hard, trying to read past her aloof attitude. Raven just smiled, calm and easy, tried to not let the blonde get to her. Just as Raven’s lips began to twitch, Clarke’s flight was called over the inner com to board the plane. The tight line on Clarke’s face eased into a smile and she pulled Raven in for a sappy hug.
“I’ll bring you home some presents.” The short girl said, slinging her bags over her shoulders and walking backwards towards her designated gate.
“Yeah, you better!” Raven called with a wink. Clarke winked back and then turned and got lost in the crowd of people heading towards Washington, DC. The brunette waited a few seconds for the rushing people to die down, then, with a solemn face and a sigh, she walked towards the exit of the airport.
The drive home was silent, Raven getting lost in her thoughts, against her better judgment. She did want to be alone for Christmas, but at the same time she didn’t. She did want to sit on the couch and eat pizza and drink beer, but she also wanted to be at the Griffin’s Christmas party, downing all the spiked eggnog and kissing some drunken fool under the mistletoe. Yet she didn’t. The mere thought of being social for the next three weeks made her physically ill. Plus, no matter how many times Clarke insisted that she wouldn’t be imposing at her house, Raven couldn’t help but to be paranoid that she would be. Sure, Clarke’s parents liked her, and Lexa, Clarke’s girlfriend, was her friend, but it was their time to be together; Abby and Jake worked at the hospital all the time and Lexa was on leave from the army.
And Octavia, oh, Raven loved Octavia, she really did, but she barely got to see her brother, between her schooling in Chicago and his intern residency in New York, so that was their time to be together.
So she would spend the Holidays alone, and she was (not)okay with that.
Two hours and five more peppermint hot chocolate’s with double shots later, Raven only had two pages of the ten page paper finished. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what to write about—all the topics were in her notebook, accompanied by a least thirty bullet points for each, it’s just that she couldn’t focus.
She thought the calm vibe of the café would help, but it didn’t. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment, because then she would just binge the rest of Jessica Jones and get too drunk to function. Then she would probably stare at her mother’s phone number and get pissed off that the woman hadn’t called her in seven months—except to ask for money, money that Raven didn’t have—and then, to end the night, she would punch the wall a few times and cry herself to sleep. She was certain this would happen, because it’s happened for the past three nights.
Just as she was about to get up and order another drink, her phone went off again, and her body grew icy-hot when she saw who the sender was.
From Unknown: Rae, can we please talk?
From Unknown: Raven, please???
From Unknown: Heard u stayed for xmas, can we plz get 2gthr & talk??
From Unknown: Raven???? I need 2 talk 2 u!!!
From Unknown: Plz just let me explain…
They came in like a wave. The type of wave that kept pulling you under every time you came back up for air, deeper and deeper they pulled, just waiting for your lungs to explode. Even though the caller ID said ‘unknown’ she knew full well who it was: Finn. Her ex. The asshole she caught cheating on her a week ago. She didn’t give him time to explain when she walked in on him naked with another woman, because there was nothing to explain; he was caught red handed and that was the end of it, at least for her. She honestly didn’t care about what he had to say, and all the pleading he was doing was just pissing her off further.
Just as she was about to reply, against her better judgment, a female barista came and sat down a plate in front of her with a large pumpkin cinnamon bun on it. Raven looked up at her, confused. “I, uh, I didn’t order this.”
The woman nodded her head towards the guy who had taken her order earlier. “From Murphy.” Murphy. She knew he looked familiar; they had Psychology 2.0 together. He was always the one sitting in the back, sleeping, yet somehow always passing the exams. She envied him for that. Her brow furrowed. They’d never talked to each other except for some snide remarks every now and then, so why did he give this nice gesture? She stared at Murphy as he stood behind the counter taking someone else’s order. His eyes didn’t flick to her once. She her confusion rose. Why he would be giving her free food, especially since said food cost five dollars? And did he know that the pumpkin cinnamon buns were her favorite?
After a few more moments of staring at him and getting no response, she grabbed a napkin and wrapped up the pastry. “Uh…okay. I’m just gonna take it to go.” Since the café wasn’t helping her writing, maybe the library would.
The library did not help.
Ten minutes after sitting down she fell asleep. She awoke to someone shaking her shoulder. “It’s eight o’clock, the library is closing soon.” She looked up the see the barista who took her order, Murphy, looming above her. She shifted away from him, a sour look on her face.
“The library is open all night.” She grumbled, the sleep slowly fading from her eyes and voice. She rolled her neck around her shoulders. It was stiff from the awkward angle she had slept.
“Not on Christmas Eve.” He retorted.
“What?”
“It’s Christmas Eve. Nearly Christmas. I’m sure good old Mrs. Dianna wants to go home to her millions of cats.” Murphy’s voice rose as he said the last part and half waved to the older woman behind the checkout counter. She glared at him and Raven could have sworn that she flipped him the bird. He grinned widely, obviously not fazed.
Raven stood and stretched, began packing her unused things back up. “What are you doing here? Following me?” He cocked an eyebrow at her and shifted the large books in his arms.
“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself.” With that he walked away.
“Ass.” She whispered, pulling her bag over her shoulder and leaving Mrs. Dianna to close up the library.
On her way back to the apartment, Raven stopped by the small convenient store and bought a frozen pizza, a gallon of peanut butter ice cream, and a twelve pack of beer. As she made her way up to the third floor of her apartment building, she saw Murphy in the hallway. Suspicion and agitation rose within her.
“Wow, are you seriously stalking me?”
His head bolted up, but when he realized that it was Raven he relaxed. “I live here.” He fumbled with the keys in his gloved hands for a few more seconds and then shoved his way inside his apartment, slamming the door shut for effect. Raven rolled her eyes heavily, then proceeded to her own apartment. She was surprised she hadn’t realized sooner that the walking-headache lived a few doors down from her.
She was halfway through all the food, plus an episode of Jessica Jones when someone knocked at her front door. She froze, the beer bottle to her lips. Her heart did a little flutter and her stomach lurched. She hoped it wasn’t Finn. She was drunk, a mix between pissed off and sad, and there was no telling if she would scream at him or punch him or break the bottle over his head. Or all three.
All three seemed like the perfect option.
She hoped whoever it was would go away.
They knocked again. A third time. The fourth time they knocked a string of cuss words flew out of her mouth. She flung open the door and was more than a little shocked to see Murphy standing there with his arms full of pizzas, beer, and unidentifiable things in the bags hanging from his arms.
Raven closed the door slightly and leaned into the frame. “What the hell are you doing here?” Her voice slurred a little.
“I brought you food.” The tall, slender man said.
“What, are you stalking me or something?”
He scowled. “I live right down the hall in 5C, remember? He motioned with his full hands in the direction of his apartment.
Raven nodded slightly. “Oh, yeah…” She raised both of her eyebrows. “So what are you doing here?”
Murphy sighed, shrugged. “No one should be alone on Christmas.” His voice was softer this time, almost gentle, like he maybe cared.
But Raven was drunk and Raven didn’t care that he maybe cared. “You sound like Octavia.” She snorted, leaning farther into the doorframe for balance.
“The loud brunette who can’t hold her liquor?”
“That’s her.” She nodded.
“She’s right.” He said sincerely.
Raven glared at him. “Go away.”
She was about to slam the door in his face when he spoke up, “I have pizza and booze.”
The dark haired woman shrugged. “I already have that.”
“And junk food.” He added, swinging the bags underneath his loaded arms.
“I have that, too.” She said, her voice clipped.
“Mine’s better.” He challenged.
Raven looked up at him, studied his pale face. His expression was neutral but his eyes were almost begging. Finally, she sighed and asked, “What kind of junk food?”
He smiled. “The rest of the pumpkin cinnamon buns that weren’t eaten today, brownies, and mini carrot cakes.”
She moved out of the way and held the door open. He had her at the pumpkin cinnamon buns. “You can come in.” He walked in with triumph and Raven noted that his smile was beautiful, but she blamed the thought on the booze.
A few hours later, they were beside each other on the couch, a large spread of unholy food and drinks laid out in front of them. The second to last Jessica Jones episode had just finished. They made small talk about the show, cracked jokes when the time called for it, but mostly they were silent, eating and drinking. Any other time it would have been awkward for her, sitting beside someone she didn’t even know, getting drunk with them. But sitting on that couch beside Murphy felt familiar, and right now Raven needed familiar.
All the familiarity and ease drained from the atmosphere, thought, when there was another knock at the door. “Expecting company?” Murphy asked. She shook her head. The person knocked again. “Are you going to answer it?”
She squeezed the bottle in her palm. Now she knew who it was. “They’ll go away.” She said finally.
Another knock.
“I don’t think they’re going away.”
Raven closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “They’ll go away.” She said evenly.
Another knock. A male voice called out to her.
Goddamn it.
She gulped down the rest of her beer and held the bottle firmly as she got up and went over to the door. She took a deep breath then opened the door, and standing there, covered in snow, red faced and glassy eyed, was Finn. When she looked at his face more rage and hurt coursed through her and that she had anticipated. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she’d felt like this all along and had suppressed it long enough.
Raven huffed through her nose and asked, “What do you want?” Her voice was low, daring him to say something that warranted a slap to the face, a punch to the gut, a bottle over the head.
Finn’s face fell, his mouth hung open for a few seconds, then he smiled. Raven’s heart stopped a little and she hated herself for it. Hated his lopsided smile, his puppy brown eyes. “I just…wanted to talk.” He said innocently. She went to shut the door but he put his hand out to stop her. “Please, Rae, can we please talk?”
She eyed him, gave her her famous death glare. He removed his hand from the door. “I’m done talking to you.” She said under her breath, the anger nearly bubbling over.
“You haven’t even let me talk!” He nearly shouted.
Her eyes grew wide slightly. Her grip on the bottle tightened. She gritted her teeth. “Finn, you need to leave.”
He stepped away from the door slightly, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Listen, please…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting from her face to behind her. Raven furrowed her brow, confused. She looked up behind her and saw Murphy looming right beside her again. She hadn’t even heard him get up. “I see you’re busy.” Finn glowered.
Raven snorted. “Yeah, I am, so like I said, you need to leave.” Finn’s eyes bulged a little, his jaw grew slack. He was not prepared for that answer, needless to say. But instead of arguing further, he turned on his heel and proceeded down the stairs. Raven held her breath, waited in the open doorway until she didn’t hear him anymore, and then went back inside and slammed the door shut. She went straight for the fridge, grabbed another beer, popped it open, and downed it in one go.
Murphy followed her into the kitchen, leaned against the counter with his arms crossed lazily over his chest. “Careful, you might get sick.” His bored voice echoed around her as she finished off the drink. She went for another one, though she gingerly sipped it this time. She said nothing as she walked past him and sat back down on the couch, where she stuffed her face with another slice of pizza. A few seconds later, Murphy sat down beside her.
“I could have made him go away.” She said, her voice flat.
“I know, but he was annoying and we have one episode of Jessica Jones left. I’m impatient.”
“Then stop talking and play the damn episode.” She growled.
He smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
Raven gave little effort to hide her smile.
“Why’d you give me a cinnamon bun?” She blurted out once the last episode of their show went off. She could have slapped herself, really.
He raised an eyebrow. “It was just a cinnamon bun. Chill.” Murphy replied, taking a swig of his drink.
“That cinnamon bun cost five dollars.” She deadpanned.
He half shrugged. “Six-fifty, actually.”
“Exactly!” She shrieked, throwing her arm up and nearly sloshing her beer all over the place. She’d forgotten she had it in her hand.
“It’s just food.”
“It’s my favorite food. I wait all year for the café to get it in.” She scooted closer to him. He didn’t scoot away. “The owner really should make it an all year thing.”
He smirked, nodded slightly, took another sip of his drink. “I’ll mention it.”
Raven nodded, drinking the last of her beer and laying her head back on the couch. If she were sober she would have let it go, but as it was, she was drunk, and her drunken mind would not stop. “So why’d you buy it for me?” She nagged several seconds later.
“Oh my god.” He huffed in exasperation.
“Murphy,” She warned, side eyeing him.
The man groaned, muttered a few cuss words, rubbed his hands over his face. “You looked like you were having a bad day. And I knew it was your favorite.” He confessed, like it was no big deal.
“Ah-hah!” She smacked her hand on the couch and he jumped a bit. “So you are stalking me.”
“You order it every time you come in.” He said a bit defensively.
She turned to him fully. “And you just remember my order?”
“You order the same damn thing.” He repeated slowly.
“Oh…” She sat back on the couch again, scooted closer to him a little bit more, put her hands in her lap. “I wonder what that says about me.”
“That you’re boring as hell.” He stated.
“Shut up.” She grunted and turned on her side to face him. He eyed her as he stayed facing the TV. A comfortable silence passed over them as Murphy surfed through the movies and Raven fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt. Her head was buzzing only slightly now. As she stole a few more glances at the man she wondered why he was here with her. Why he showed up at her doorstep with food and drinks, an innocent offer. Why would he care? Why was he here?
Finally, she asked, softly, not taking her eyes off the piece of fabric she was playing with, “So why are you alone for Christmas?”
“I’m not; I’m here with you.” He said simply.
She rolled her eyes and repositioned herself on the couch. “No, I mean, why aren’t you gone? Why are you still on campus? Why aren’t you home?”
He hesitated for a moment, then answered in a somewhat defeated and embarrassed tone, “I have no home to go back to.”
“Oh,” Her voice deflated.
“It’s no big deal.” He added quickly.
“I don’t have one either.” Raven confessed. Murphy turned to her, giving her all of his attention. “I usually just spend Christmas with Clarke or Octavia.”
“Why didn’t you go this year?”
“I felt like I would bring the cheer down.” She grumbled.
“Whaaat? You? Bring the cheer down? Noooo.” He exaggerated each word, a small smile on his lips.
She punched him lightly on the arm but smiled back. “Seriously, I was not in the ‘merry’ mood. I thought staying here and being alone with my anger would be better than going there and bringing everyone down.”
“Staying here in your anger only caused you to burry everything in alcohol.” He pointed out.
“You helped with that.” She said dejectedly. He raised his shoulders in a ‘what-ya-gonna-do’ gesture and then started searching for a movie again.
Exhaustion started to seep through Raven like a drug, making her drunken haze transform into a sleep deprived one. She blamed the haze for grabbing a pillow and putting it on Murphy’s lap, then spreading out on the couch, resting her head on the pillow. He tensed, not sure what he should do. Put a blanket over her? Get up and leave? Say something?
“Are you going to kiss me?” It was a nearly passed out Raven who spoke.
“You’re drunk.” He laughed lowly.
“So are you.” She objected.
“Not as drunk as you.” He argued.
She grunted something unintelligible, shifted on the couch. It was when she was nearly asleep that he said, “I’m not going to kiss you.”
“Asshole.” She sighed almost disappointedly.
“If you still like me in the morning ask me again.”
She laughed stiffly. “Who says I like you now?”
“You haven’t kicked me out yet.” He was hoping she wouldn’t, now that he’d brought it up.
“I hope I still like you in the morning.” She muttered sleepily.
He faltered, not sure of what to say, so he just added a meek, “Me, too.”
“I’ll still like you in the morning.” She mumbled surely.
“So sure?” He raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t see.
She shrugged her body, her consciousness slipping farther and farther away. “You’re not so bad, Murphy.” Her tone was meaningful; Murphy could almost hear the sincerity leaking from her lips.
He swallowed loudly, hoping the lump in his throat wouldn’t hinder his voice. “John. That’s my first name.” It did, but he figured she didn’t notice.
“Well, John, Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Raven.”