31st may
12.21pm

erik had come to the conclusion that he had made a horrible mistake. this marriage he'd found himself in was nothing like he'd hoped. instead... well. he felt isolated in his own home. rachel was- to put it bluntly- a bitch. she'd shown him that as soon as she could, and he was just upset with himself. he'd known something was wrong in that desolate chapel, but he hadn't trusted himself. and now he was angry, but at himself, not at the woman he now found himself married to. he should have run. he'd been telling himself to. but he hadn't. and then she was there, and he couldn't. not when it was so desolate. the silence had pressed him into saying his vows far more effectively than any father with a shotgun pointed at his midsection could have.

and what did erik do when he was upset? he went to the gym. he swam. he looked through newspaper articles. but he didn't want to do that. he wanted to talk to someone. the black-and-white faces in the articles couldn't listen to him, and when he worked out, he pushed things far from his mind. so of course he had to see ryssa. she would actually be able to listen to him, make him feel better and would feed him. and he needed comfort food.

he'd left a note saying he'd gone to the gym. not that she'd check- it was courtesy that rachel really didn't deserve. but erik is still erik. he hasn't toughened up overnight, otherwise he'd likely have all his stuff in the car and be on the phone to the vow, saying that the match was a mistake. but he wasn't. he was just escaping for a little while, finding some breathing space.

he slowed, recognising ryssa's building and pulling into a parking space. he didn't exactly... care if people saw him. ryssa was his friend, and the only reason he'd care if they were in the rumour mill would be because it'd make her look bad. if he was lucky, a rumour might make rachel leave him. find someone else to be cruel to. out of the car, door locked, then into the buildings, climbing the stairs with a heavy tread, his hair being pushed from his face more than once. he'd had it cut, just before the wedding- the short back and sides still had that nice paintbrushy feel to them. he wore black, like he always did, his boots giving his outfit an oddly... menacing look. true, anyone who knew erik would likely laugh it off, but he was sure that, to some people, he looked like he was on his way to rob some apartments. if only that was the case. he'd be a properly tough guy if he was doing that, and he'd be able to tell his... wife where to go. which would be as far from him as she could.

he knew he hadn't told ryssa he was coming, and she may well be in town or... wherever. but he had the feeling that she'd be inside. he took his time heading down the hall to her door, before knocking with a brisk motion that was, honestly, the opposite of how he felt. but how could you knock sadly? it made no sense. he leant, back to the wall, next to the door, waiting to see if she'd answer. if she didn't, he'd have to call her. but if she was in... it'd be a welcome sight.

he twisted the black band around his finger absently, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the click of the door opening or the muffled thumps of footsteps. he didn't want to go home. he'd just sleep here if he could- go home and collect his stuff, then camp or something. he was sure ryssa would let him use her shower.

It was hot.

It may have only been the end of May, but Ryssa was already tired of having to put pants on. She'd much rather sit around her apartment with the AC on in just a t-shirt and panties, but no. She had a guest living with her. As much as Ryssa enjoyed having Brielle around, she wasn't getting any better. The brunette was losing weight and wasn't eating, and no amount of coaxing could get her to eat. Running a hand over her face as she stood in her closet, looking at the over-sized clothes that she had to cave in and buy. Ever since her fathers visited earlier in the month, she had been wearing oversized clothes, since she really didn't have a reason to hide the growing bump anymore. She wasn't far enough along to need maternity clothes yet (which was a baldfaced lie, she was just too damn stubborn to cave in and buy them).

Aaron was at home for the summer, and her Patre was just as pissed as she thought he'd be.

Papa, on the other hand, could be more excited and was happy to have a grandson or granddaughter.

That was the light at the end of the tunnel as far as Ryssa was concerned. Sighing, the blonde grabbed a pair of dungarees and tugged them on, the denim still loose against her growing baby belly. Padding barefoot through the apartment, Ryssa silently prayed that she would find someone to marry soon. She was not going to have her baby living in the one-bedroom atrocity that she was currently in. No. Her son or daughter was going to need room to move about and grow. Running a hand over her face as she made her way into the kitchen, where she looked at the clock and smiled. It was after noon, so she could break out the ice cream. Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, Ryssa opened the freezer and tugged out one of the many pints of Dude Food ice cream she had bought at the store. She had been craving Whoppers and ice cream and had found the perfect mix.

She had just opened the container when she heard someone knocking on the door. It wasn't Bree, as the brunette had left a little while ago, and besides, the brunette had a spare key. Shuffling across the carpet with her bare feet, Ryssa had just stuck the spoon in her mouth as she opened the door, revealing the tall man that used to be her next door neighbor, Erik Zwolf. Blinking as she looked up at him, she arched an eyebrow and took the spoon out of her mouth, "What wrong Bud? You look more worn down than usual." She said as she stepped back to let him into her apartment. He was huge, and she was tiny, so their friendship was an interesting one. "Lemme get you some cookies." she continued as he sat down on the sofa. Grabbing the plate off the counter, she handed the entire thing to him and sat down across from him, propping her feet up on the coffee table and resting the pint on her belly. "Now, spill."

the friendship between erik and ryssa was an odd one. if they were in a line-up, you wouldn't have picked the two of them- the huge, melancholy man and the small, bubbly pregnant woman. but it worked out. erik supposed that the best friendships were built between wildly different people. it meant you had to overlook a lot more to become friends in the first place, and then everything was more secure. the friendship between erik and ryssa was built, primarily, on cookies. cookies and erik never having had home-baked anything as a child. they'd just happened to have bumped into each other and erik'd commented on how nice whatever-she-was-making smelt, and he then somehow found himself sitting at her table with an entire plate of cookies before him. he hadn't even had time to think. evidently not knowing what cookies smelt like when they were just out the oven was a cause for alarm. not that he was complaining, as he'd ended up with a friend and a seemingly limitless supply of baked goods.

the sad thing was that he'd had to go. ryssa had already run the gauntlet, and as much as erik liked her company, he'd had to have given this match a chance. even so, he wasn't sure why he hadn't told her about it. she'd have likely made him approach it with a way better attitude than he had. however, the sad realisation that it probably wouldn't have helped much was one that kept popping up and reminding him that he was now stuck in a marriage that would have worked better if his wife was a great white shark in a dress. and besides, she wouldn't take him vanishing for a few days as a sign of him being gone. erik's schedule changed constantly, so he'd occasionally take a few days or so to adjust to his new sleep cycle. then he'd appear again, and everything would continue. but even so... part of erik had told him not to tell her. he had no clue why. in some ways, he felt almost disappointed that she wasn't in his 'batch' of people- ryssa was just easy to like, and erik was sure that if he knew how to have a crush on someone, he'd have one on her. but he didn't know- he'd skipped all that teenage stuff in favour of study and exercise, like he did with most of the things in life. the relationships he had were based on a mutual need- erik the need to be cared for, the girl with a need to fix. and it didn't take long for them to realise that erik was too big of a mess to piece back together. if they'd asked him, erik'd have told them that all he needed was to be loved, but people ran from that. he found it odd how these women were easy to sleep with, but hard to love. erik'd always seen the two things as having some kind of connection, but the women he'd slept with didn't love him and the women he loved didn't sleep with him. the world was an odd place.

he heard footsteps, then the door swung open, revealing ryssa with a pint of ice cream and a spoon, blinking at him as if he'd come back from the future or something. 'What wrong Bud? You look more worn down than usual.'
he didn't respond as ryssa let him in and he made his way to his usual spot on the couch, the furniture creaking as it protested his weight. it'd hold- it was just mouthy. the door closed, and ryssa got everything ready, just as it was every time they chatted, happy or sad. although the plate was in erik's hands this time- generally it was just within reach. she could tell something was up. he set the plate on his knees, looking at her for a moment before beginning. "i got married. and it's horrible."
he felt his eyes well up, turning his face away, his hands knotting together. he didn't mean to get so emotional, but putting things into words tended to do that. the reality sucker-punches you. "i don't know what to do."

Ryssa was glad to have a friend like Erik. He may look like a linebacker that could bowl her over and squash her like a bug, but on the inside, he was just one big teddy bear that needed a little TLC. He treated her with the utmost respect, like a sister that he never had, almost, and that was perfectly okay with the perky blonde. Especially when he was openly a taste-tester for her experiments with the cookies and goodies she made him. Of course, that first day, when he hadn't known what the hell a cookie straight from the oven was... That just solidified the thought in Ryssa's mind that this lost soul was sent to her.

So that she could mother him and make him happy, if just for a moment.

Watching the tall-ass dark haired man strode his way into her home, Ryssa's ears perked up at the sound of Coty moving around in her bedroom, his tiny yaps heard as he scrambled across the carpeting. Erik was one of his favorite people. It was like he had a sixth sense for whenever the tall, broody man was near. Chuckling as he climbed up on the sofa next to Erik, Ryssa couldn't help but watch as he rolled over and stuck his belly in the air, being for it to be rubbed. Apparently Ryssa was chopped liver whenever Erik was around, and for some odd reason, the blonde was okay with that. Scooping up another bit of ice cream into her spoon as she awaited her answers, Ryssa arched an eyebrow at him as she wiggled down into the love seat a little more. "I got married, and it's horrible."

Ryssa nearly dropped the spoon, her blue eyes narrowing in on the black band on his left hand. How the fuck had she not noticed that?! The tears in his eyes had Ryssa's heart wrenching in her chest, causing her own tears to well up in her eyes. Damn these pregnancy hormones! "I don't know what to do." Ryssa licked her lips and sat up, leaning forward to put her pint of melting ice cream on the coffee table, a magazine under it to soak up any spills. "Woah, Erik... I need you to start at the beginning please, I'm a little lost..." She said, looking at him with bright blue eyes.

coty was a welcome distraction from having to look at ryssa, erik wrapping his hands around the dog's chest and lifting him to his lap, proceeding to tickle coty's stomach. it was routine- erik and coty got on well. he supposed it might have something to do with coty being able to play a little rougher with erik. he could happily chew on erik's wrist and not hurt erik in the slightest, and for a dog who lived in a small apartment, rough and tumble play was always fun. it wore him out, too, and erik guessed that was good for ryssa. even so, today's play seemed a little halfhearted, and erik knew that coty was, likely, picking up on how he felt. his eyes were still wet, his already-thin lips compressed so much they were barely visible.
'Woah, Erik... I need you to start at the beginning please, I'm a little lost...'

he glanced towards her, then back to coty's doggy little face. "i was with the vow. and they matched me. and then..."
he closed his eyes. he didn't want to think it over, but he kind of had to. he wasn't sure where it began, the mess he'd gotten himself into. but he couldn't begin with his birth, so it would have to be the abridged version. "she... didn't wear a wedding dress."
that was the first thing, but it'd felt bad from the very beginning. it'd just been this aura of wrongness that'd surrounded him for the whole day. he'd thought it was nerves, but now he thought of it more as a premonition. he swallowed, hard, before continuing. "and she was smiling, at first, but you know me, i don't... then she just... dropped it. instantly. so it wasn't a real smile. then..."
he pushed some hair back from his forehead, before looking at ryssa, green eyes emploring. "she looked disgusted. like i was... something horrible. something disgust-"
he couldn't finish the sentence, his head slumping forwards and shoulders hunching as the dam burst. when erik cries, it's not loud- like everything with erik, it's understated, honed into near-nothingness by years of not having enough attention on him to warrant any sign of emotion. coty whined, a tear or two dampening his fur as erik sat as still as a statue, the only sound the occasional harsh breath that made his broad chest heave abruptly then cease. the hair he'd pushed back tumbled over his forehead again as he searched for words, his voice catching and failing repeatedly as he spoke. "why can't i be happy?"

the question that had haunted erik since he was small. he'd hoped that this marriage would be the one thing that'd save him from himself, give him a life and a family, everything he'd wanted. they'd said that they'd give him what he wanted, and instead it was like they were playing a massive joke on him. it was as if they'd ignored what he'd revealed, that raw admission, and gone 'he's a big guy, he can handle it' like so many others had.