October 8, 4:52pm

Matt walked into his apartment and threw his backpack, gym bag and keys on the table. It was finally Friday and he was ready for the weekend. He had started the process of basketball try-outs, which seemed to be more work than actual practices and games. He hated cutting kids from something they really wanted to do, but it was all part of the coaching job. He threw off his shoes and jumped in the shower. He let the warm water wash away the sweat away before he quickly cleaned up. Stepping out of the shower he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the kitchen.

He grabbed a beer out of the kitchen and twisted the cap off before grabbing his phone out of his backpack. He fumbled with his phone to see his new text message. It was from Brooke. He smirked to himself as he read "Matt, are you home? Can I come over? I really need you right now." He sat down on the couch and flipped on the television and texted back. Maybe the weekend would start alright, after all...

As he watched some ESPN and sipped on his beer in just his towel he received another text, "Okay, well, I'm coming over. And, don't freak out when you see me. Shane Moran fucking gave me a busted lip." He almost spit out his beer and set the bottle on the coffee table in front of him. "What the..." he said to himself. He immediately asked if she was okay. Why on Earth would a guy beat up a woman? Maybe he was drunk and she was working and she tried to kick him out? That was the only logical explanation he could think of. She was a very controlling woman when it came to kicking guys out of her bar. He had seen it with his own eyes. "I think so. It's bleeding pretty badly, and I've probably got some bruises somewhere. I'll be there in about five minutes."

His head rested on his hand while he leaned on his elbows leaned on his knees. His hands rubbed over his face and quickly got up, suddenly realizing he was still only in a towel. What he thought was a great start to the weekend suddenly shifted. He was worried, worried she was badly hurt. He wasn't in a 'relationship' with her, but he still cared for her well being. He slipped on some boxer briefs and some clean shorts. Before he could grab a t shirt there was a knock on the door. His hair was still slightly wet as he raced to the door.

He opened the door as fast as he could. What he saw in front of him took his breath away, but not in the good way. Her lip was busted, bleeding everywhere. She had welts on the side of her face. What kind of monster had she come across? He would have never thought anyone could get more than one hit in when going up against Brooke, let alone do that much damage. Matt had never been one to fight anyone. He had gotten into tiffs in high school, when he thought he was 'da man,' but never since. As much as he wanted to go hunt this guy down right away and beat him to a pulp, he wasn't so sure he wanted to get in the middle of it. He stood there frozen staring at her with shock. Even her huge bright purse seemed to be beaten up and dirty. He snapped out of it and stepped slightly to the left, allowing her to enter his apartment. "Come on... let's get you cleaned up..."

Brooke Lindley drove as fast as she could to Matt Hunter's apartment, trying to keep herself from crying. She wasn't a crier, never had been and wasn't about to start now. Parts of her body were in pain, but that didn't matter right now. All that mattered was getting to Matt, so she could get herself cleaned up. She could easily do the same thing at her own apartment, but, Matt's apartment building was closer. Also, she would be able to spend more time with him, which to her was a lot better than sitting at home on a Friday night, alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the loud neighbors next door to keep you company. She wasn't in a relationship with this man, but he seemed different from the men Brooke had dated before...the very few men. Matt seemed like the type of man who knew what he wanted, and wasn't afraid to go after it. That was the confidence that many men seemed to lack.

But, how would she explain the entire story to Matt? The first time that she had been to his apartment, about a week before, she hadn't told him why she had moved to Evergreen in the first place. She had moved there all the way from Oklahoma City because one of the men whom she believed to be her brother lived there. Brooke had first learned of this while on a visit to her mother's home in Abilene, Texas, where Brooke grew up. On that particular visit, Nora had told her daughter about the man who was biologically Brooke's father. After Brooke did some research, Brooke stumbled across the sons of Robert Moran, Shane and James. She had come to Evergreen to see Shane, and after getting settled in--and unexpectedly inheriting a business--she went to see Shane for the first time, earlier that day.

When Brooke had gone to see Shane, it proved to be a bad idea. Shane and his wife had just gotten over drama with James, and had gotten their lives in some sort of an order, when Brooke had come knocking on their door. Shane was incredibly angry, and annoyed, and thought that Brooke was lying. She hadn't even been able to get the entire explanation out before Shane physically attacked her, and at one point, he had slapped her with immense force across the face, effectively splitting her lip and giving her welts on the side of her face from landing on the ground. She face now looked absolutely disgusting, and she was scared to let anyone else see it, except for Matt. She couldn't even go into work that night, on one of their busiest nights, and she would have to call Grace so they wouldn't wonder where she was.

Getting out of her car, Brooke placed her now dirty purse on her shoulder and quickly walked into the building. She passed by a few people, and she wouldn't let them see her face. Luckily, her jacket had a hood, and so she put her hood over her head at once point, which made shielding her face from the view of others easier. She remembered the way to Matt's apartment easily, and she made it there on her own as fast as she could, so no one else would see her damaged face. Once she made it to Matt's apartment, and she knocked on his door, she took her hood off, looking from side to side to make sure no one was coming down the hall.

When Matt finally opened the door, and he saw the damage that Shane had done, he looked like he was frozen in place, shocked at the sight of her face. It was completely understandable; after all, Brooke looked sort of like a truck had run her over, injuries and all. As he stared longer and longer, Brooke wanted more and more to look away so he couldn't see it anymore. It was too late. The image was probably already ingrained into his memory, and there was no way Brooke would be able to make him forget. Hopefully, after all of this was over, he wasn't going to go and bash Shane's head in. Shane was an incredibly strong man, and he wouldn't have a problem taking Matt down in a second.

Brooke walked past Matt, and into his apartment. She heard Matt shut the door behind her, but she looked at his apartment again, re-memorizing its familiar look. The furniture and stuff looked good with the color of the walls, and it wasn't too messy. Without taking her boots off, Brooke stood there by the small hallway which led to the other rooms, staring at the television as the game on ESPN continued. "Matt, I'm really sorry if I disturbed you or anything..." she began to say. For all she knew, he probably had plans with friends or something, and now, she had ruined them. Great, just great.

As Brooke walked past him, he closed the door and slowly walked into the living room watching Brooke. She almost looked lost. Matt picked up the remote and turned off the t.v., "No, no, no, stop. I just got out of the shower, I wasn't doing anything, don't worry about it. Come here..." He led her into the kitchen where he grabbed a towel, threw some ice in the middle of it and wrapped it up. He opened the freezer and found a bag of frozen peas from God knows when. He led her over to the island in the middle of the kitchen and patted the counter. "Hop up. Put this," he handed her the peas "on that," he pointed to her head. "And you can put this," he lifted the towel to her mouth, "...here." He gently tried to place it on the worst part of her lip.

He stepped back, leaning against the opposite counter and resting his hands on it as well. His shook his head a little bit. Dealing with a beat up girl was really a first for Matt. He took a breath in, "Okay, so... what the hell happened?" His curiosity was getting the best of him. He didn't want to jump to conclusions about what happened when he could just ask her. There was no way she could come in there and not say what happened, was there? He hadn't heard anything bad about this Moran guy, but then again, he hadn't heard anything at all about him. As he looked at Brooke, it looked like she had fallen pretty hard with all the dirt and grass stains all over her. That made his first theory of the bar brawl a bust. He hated to think it, but perhaps she started it. He had to stop thinking of all the possible reasons for something like this to happen and just focus in on helping her out.

He slowly meandered around the kitchen, not really wanting to look at Brooke's bumps and bruises. First, he wasn't too fond of blood (but he wouldn't let anyone know that little fact) and second, he couldn't bear seeing a woman beat up at all. He got a glass from the cabinet and got some ice water for her, setting it on the counter next to her. He leaned back up against the counter, wincing as he watched her ice her wounds and waited for the story.

Brooke had been leaning against the nearby wall, her eyes fixed on the television. The game on ESPN seemed really interesting, even if it was a football game from the past week. Growing up, Brooke and her mother had watched many sports events together, neither of them being the girly type. Brooke would rather play football or wrestle with the guys than do hair and talk about what boys she likes. Lately, she hadn’t played sports with people. She had been too busy running a business to take time and meet other men. Most of the men she met came to the nightclub and bar she owned, but they were more concerned about getting drunk, or getting into her pants. Brooke would have none of that, and so, she didn’t know many people. Matt was different. He was nice, somewhat respectable, and he had been nice when Brooke said she didn’t want to hook up with him in that way. He was slightly different, and slightly different was what she needed.

"No, no, no, stop. I just got out of the shower, I wasn't doing anything, don't worry about it. Come here..." Brooke head turned to see Matt turning the television off, and Brooke knew she had better listen to him. He was willing to help her get cleaned up, and hopefully, willing to listen to her once she told him what happened. She wasn’t looking forward to telling him. The first time she had come over, she hadn’t told him much about her, other than that she was from Texas, but had moved to Evergreen from Oklahoma. She didn’t want anyone to know about her mission, but he would have to know eventually. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to understand why Shane had attacked her like this. At his request, Brooke walked into the kitchen, and she set her dirty purse on the other side of the counter, before she hopped up to the spot where Matt had motioned for her to sit.

Once she was up on the counter, Brooke took the peas from Matt, putting the bag on her forehead. The coldness of the frozen peas helped lessen the pain, which came from the knot on her head. She had received the knot when Shane had pushed her down, and she had hit the side of her head on the ground. Of course, Shane didn’t show any remorse for what he had down, though Brooke wasn’t sure if he actually felt any. It didn’t change the fact that Brooke’s head was now pounding with pain. Brooke’s eyes were locked on to Matt’s as he slowly lifted a towel toward her lips, to help wipe up the blood coming from her busted lip. Brooke took it from him with her free hand, and she placed the towel on her lip. She wasn’t sure how much blood would stain the towel, but she was sure Matt didn’t care. At least he was willing to help her, after she showed up unannounced. She wondered why he was so insistent on helping her, when he could have turned her away. They had only known each other for about a week, but they had seen each other a couple of times before today. Whatever the case, Brooke wished she knew how to repay him. She needed to do something.

Brooke kept looking at Matt as he leaned against the counter across from her. Her big, green eyes met his blue ones, and for a second, she considered just getting out of here before she started talking. None of this behavior was like her. She wasn’t normally scared like this, and usually, she was all self-sufficient. But, then again, she had met her brother for the first time, and the man had beaten her like she was a sock puppet. She was lucky to not have more extensive injuries, but she still didn’t understand why he felt the need to beat her like he had. No woman deserved to be beaten like she had; in fact, no woman deserved to have a hand raised to her, no matter what she had done. Brooke saw men who hit women as slightly uncivilized. They didn’t know how a woman shouldn’t be treated, and they didn’t have a right to be around them. Maybe Shane was different, and maybe he wasn’t. Right now, Brooke just needed to tell him what had happened, even if it meant revealing something she hadn’t wanted to at that moment. Brooke sighed and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Well, I should probably start at the beginning. A few months ago, I went home to visit my mum in Texas. While I was home, she told me who my father was. I began to look for him, but instead, I found Shane, and I traced him back to my father, Robert Moran. So, in a nutshell, he’s my brother. I moved to Evergreen to meet him, and apparently, he doesn’t believe me. I think he’s had some issues with our brother, but he still didn’t need to back me up against the column on his porch, throw my purse across the street, throw me on to the ground, and then slap me hard enough to bust my lip open. The son of a bitch needs to be thrown in jail or something.” When Brooke was done explaining her story, she saw that Matt was now pacing around the kitchen. He had gotten a glass of ice water for her, and Brooke took the towel from her lip, which was now stained with blood. She set the towel on her lap, and she grabbed the ice water, drinking half of it at once. The ice water made her thirst disappear instantly, and she set the glass down, looking at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, now focused a little more on him. “I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you before.”

Their eyes met briefly before she began her story. Matt's eyes locked on her face as she began and they slowly fell as he took in the whole story. Of all the reasons Matt ran through his head as to how this could have happened to her, he was truly not expecting her explanation. He looked down at the floor, right next to his feet while she told her story and iced her lip. His mind was blank. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? In all honesty, he hardly knew Brooke, so he didn't know what she needed to hear or do, he was at a loss.

She asked was what wrong and he looked up suddenly. "What? No, nothing's wrong. It's okay. Just taking it all in..." He crossed his arms in front of his still bare chest and tried to think of something to say. He wasn't quite sure why this Shane guy would be so upset about her being his sister, or half-sister, or whatever. None of it made any sense to Matt. He took a deep breath in and he had a slightly furrowed brow. His eyes finally traveled back up to meet with hers, offering a sympathetic look. "Are... you okay? Like... all around?" He could clearly see that she was hurt physically, but she was probably more hurt emotionally. Having someone who she thought was family completely reject her and hit her. He glanced at the towel in her lap and his stomach churned a little bit, causing him to quickly look back up.

Matt felt awkward. He wasn't used to feeling awkward, it was very rare. How do you console someone that was just beat up by her brother, who she had just met? He grabbed her empty glass and filled it up again. He wanted so much to make her feel better but simply didn't know how. He was good at charming girls into bed and feigning some sort of romantic feeling in the morning while showing them the door. This... this was out of his reasoning. "Can I get you anything else? Aspirin or something?"

Brooke continued to ice her lip, happy that the cold object was able to relieve at least part of the throbbing pain in her lip. There was no doubt in her mind that her lip would be swollen and dark for a few days. People would probably ask questions too, but all they would get was the finger. They didn't need to know what had happened, and she sure wasn't about to tell them. She would be relieved when it was finally gone, and she had experienced one of these before. Of course, those were in high school, and her mother had seen those ones. Brooke knew one thing for sure: her mother Nora wasn't going to know about these. Brooke didn't want her mother worrying about her, when it was really no big deal to her.

Brooke looked down for a few moments, and when she looked up again, she saw Matt looking at her. The look he was giving her suggested sympathy of some sort, but she wasn't sure how to take it. Unless he had been in the same situation before--which was very unlikely--then the sympathy he was trying to convey with her would only go so far. At least he was trying to make an effort to be helpful. "I...I don't even know," Brooke replied with a sigh, shaking her head. "Of course, how are you supposed react to the fact that the man you are 95% sure is your brother decides to bust your lip open? I don't even understand why the hell he did it. He obviously had a bone to pick with someone else."

Meanwhile, Brooke had been biting her lip, to draw the pain from another spot on her body. No one knew this, but Brooke had gotten another tattoo maybe two weeks ago, a set of stars that ran down her back. No doubt, the next time she went to see her mother, she would sigh because her daughter had gotten another tattoo. When she had gotten the tattoo, the tattoo artist had been sure to stay away from the tattoos on the side of her abdomen, much to Brooke's relief. Since she had gotten these so recently, they were still slightly tender. Being shoved against a column hadn't helped much, and when Matt asked her if she needed something, she nodded. "Some aspirin would be great. And, when you come back, could you look at the new tattoo on my back and make sure nothing's overly red or anything?" Brooke was sure that everything would be fine, since most of the redness would more than likely be gone, but she wanted to make sure. Hopefully, Matt would be comfortable with that.

Matt was a bit surprised at how well Brooke was taking everything. Then again, he knew she was a pretty strong chick. He wasn't used to girls like that. Any other girl would be sobbing and crying and just wanting a hug. Brooke, however, just iced her wounds like she just exited the boxing match and was pissed that she lost. Matt wasn't even sure if he would take it as well as she was. He wasn't a wuss by any means, but he also hadn't really been in this situation.

As Matt exited the kitchen he replied a hesitant, "Oh, yeah... sure." What was it about women with tattoos that seemed really hot to Matt? He wasn't sure, but he was a little worried about getting turned on while this girl was bleeding and beaten up. Just didn't seem quite right. He looked in his bathroom mirror cabinet for something that might help her out. Excedrin... no. Ah ha! Ibuprofen. That should work. He opened it and poured a couple out into his hand to take to Brooke. He paused for a second to find a shirt to put on, but changed his mind and just kept walking back towards the kitchen.

He waited for Brooke to take her medicine and wondered just how many tattoos she had that he couldn't see. Maybe that was the appealing part of them. He would know this tattoo was there and no one else would. He tried to smile as normal as he could, wiping away the worry and awkwardness a little at a time, "Alright, let's see that tat." He put his hands on his hips, ready for the investigation.

Matt eyed the tattoo that ran down the center of her back in a star pattern. He figured that must have hurt, and maybe that's how she could handle all her wounds so well. He also caught a glimpse of another tattoo on her hip area with roses. Brooke looked sexy as hell to him and he almost forgot what he was supposed to be looking for. He lightly trailed his thumb along one of the lines of the other tattoo on her hip area, "Everything seems to look fine to me. It actually looks really good." Matt had secretly always wanted a tattoo, but never knew what to get. He didn't want something meaningless but he couldn't find anything that meant enough to him to get. So, he stayed tattoo free.

Brooke nodded once when Matt agreed to take a look at her new tattoo, to make sure that the damage done was minimal, if nothing at all. Brooke had paid quite a bit of money to have that extensive tattoo done, and if she needed to go and get it fixed or something, then it would require a trip to Indianapolis on her day off, which was still five days away. She couldn't afford to take a day off from the bar now, when business was incredibly good. The only day she took off each week was Wednesday, and she usually used that day to run errands and relax. Owning and managing a nightclub as well as bartending six nights a week was pretty stressful, and if Brooke didn't take that day off, she knew she would go crazy.

As Brooke waited for Matt to come back with the painkillers he had promise to give to her, Brooke looked around his kitchen, though it hadn't been the first time she'd seen it. She had seen the small room seven days before, also the day before the Evergreen Founders Day fair. Since it was a town event, The Vibe had been packed that night, and Brooke had spent the entire day stocking the bar up with whatever they would need, and then some things. That night had been particularly profitable, but Brooke hadn't stayed the entire evening. Instead, her and Matt had come back to this same apartment, and though they didn't have some fun of their own, they enjoyed each others company that night. Brooke rather liked the way his kitchen looked, and she noticed just how clean it was. Her own kitchen wasn't like this, because she hadn't cleaned it yet. That was definitely overdue.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Matt came back with the painkillers in his hand. Brooke was relieved to see the two tiny pills, and when he handed them to her, Brooke grabbed the now once again full cup of water beside her, and dropped the pills in her mouth. She quickly rinsed them down with a large drink of water, a little happier now that she knew her head would stop throbbing soon. Then, she could think clearly again. Once that was all said and done, Brooke set the glass in a different spot on the counter, and she turned herself around, so that Matt could take a better look at the tattoos on her back. Brooke had never allowed Matt to look at them; in fact, Matt would be the first to see them. Normally, people might see a small piece of one of them, and they would ask about it. But, Brooke had kept the stars on her back covered up to allow them to heal without being overly aggravated.

Once she was all turned around, Brooke lifted up the back of her shirt, wincing ever so slightly. The tattoo was only a couple of days old, and so it was still pretty tender. Because of this being the fourth tattoo she had gotten, Brooke wasn't a stranger to pain, and she knew she could handle it. The star tattoo now on her back was the largest one she had gotten, and it was to be the last one on her abdomen. If she got anymore, they would be on her legs, and maybe her upper arms. But, those ones would have meanings, as these ones did. Brooke would explain the meanings to Matt a little later, because this wasn't quite the time for that.

Brooke was now holding her shirt so that her full back could be seen, but her shirt was still on her body. She was quiet as Matt began to look them over, and it seemed as if he was admiring them a bit. Of course, who wouldn't be? Not many women had the courage to get as many tattoos as Brooke had, and the two large ones were all on her torso. That meant that she had laid in a chair for hours as they were done, and she had braved the pain of the needle and ink. She was staying still as he examined them, but when she felt his thumb run over some of the swirls of the tattoo on her hip, Brooke closed her eyes, the feeling of his thumb making her forget about the pain her back was in. He had never trailed any part of his body against hers, and surprisingly, his touch was quite soft, and almost perfect.

When he confirmed that everything looked fine, and that he rather liked the tattoos she had, Brooke smiled and opened her eyes, turning her head to the right so she could see his face over her shoulder. "Thanks. I've had the roses and stuff for about two and a half years now, and the stars are two days old. You know about the flower on the inside of my wrist, and there's more colorful stars on my right foot." Brooke let him continue to run fingers along her tattoos, and as long as he didn't touch the newest one, then he could do it as long as he wanted to. "You ever thought about getting one?" she asked, hoping to further the conversation a little. There were lots of men who didn't care for a woman having tattoos, but this one seemed to be different.

Sometimes Matt wasn’t sure how he got himself into these situations. Currently there was a very attractive woman, with her shirt pulled up and a busted lip in his kitchen. His thumb absent mindedly traced more of the lines that seemed to dance around her hip. He had to focus on not flipping her around and kissing her. Not just because of her hurt lip, but because he was trying to gain some restraint in his sexual actions. He wasn’t completely sure why, but he felt he had failed himself. Him and Brooke had ‘hung out’ and hadn’t done anything sexual. Was he losing his charm? Did he finally hit the inevitable wall that he had always dreaded?

As sad as this sounded, it really seemed to worry Matt. He wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t really have a problem with just being friends with Brooke, even if that wasn’t his first intention when meeting at the bar and going home immediately after with her. He was expecting more. Much more. Anything more. He was suddenly realizing that the three main girls in his life… were all just friends. In Matt’s entire life this had never happened. He wasn’t that guy that had a bunch of friends that were girls… he was the guy that girls wanted to be friends with so they could eventually hook up with him. Yeah, it was bad, but that’s how it used to be. He charmed girls, got them into bed, etc. He didn’t do this. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love, let alone with his best friend who was married… and pregnant. He wasn’t supposed to be that guy that read seven books just to take a girl on a second date after having only a make-out session on the first date. He wasn’t the guy that had a girl in his kitchen, shirt half off and do nothing about it. He was getting old. That was it. It was over.

His hand dropped from her hip and cleared his throat slightly. Her question shook him out of the explosion of thoughts that suddenly clouded his mind. ”Yeah, I had thought about it, but don’t think I ever would. I just can’t think of anything to get that would mean a lot to me, ya know? Yours are really gorgeous, though,” he smiled slightly, ”They’re almost convincing me to go out and get one.” He took a slight step back, glancing up to her face as she turned her head towards him. He admired the artwork that covered her back a little more, ”Do your s have special meanings or anything?” He was reminded again to stop worrying about his own problems, or sexual frustrations as it seemed, when he saw the slight wounds on Brooke’s head as she turned. It seemed his problems were slight in comparison.


((OOC: finally! sorry, again - and there was no way I could match your length, lol. impressive!))

Brooke kept her eyes closed as Matt's thumb continued to trace the tattoo on her right side. His touch seemed to be more effective than any painkillers, and it was something Brooke wasn't used to feeling. She had only had sex once in her life, and even then, that man's touch wasn't nearly as soft as the one she was feeling now. When Brooke had seen this same apartment a week before, her and Matt hadn't done anything, contrary to what he thought he would get. Brooke liked Matt--a lot--but she wasn't ready for that.

Hearing that Matt was being inspired by her tattoos, Brooke smiled as she lowered her shirt, covering them up again after he had stopped tracing them. She was glad to know that her new tattoo seemed to be free of harm. Each one had a special meaning to her, though even if they hadn't, she would have been more than willing to suffer the pain of the needle and ink for them. She had always been fascinated by tattoos as a child, though her mother never had any. Her mother didn't much care for them, but that didn't mean she was completely against them. She just didn't feel the need to have one, and each time Brooke came home with a new one, Nora would always ask about the meaning behind it. She didn't want her daughter to get a tattoo that was meaningless.

Once Brooke had her shirt down, she turned herself around on the counter, so she was facing him again. Even though she was up on Matt's counter, she wanted to jump down and kiss him so badly. He was not only good-looking, but he carried himself with confidence. Brooke had seen Matt at The Vibe a couple of times since their first meeting, and though part of the time he was talking to someone else, he carried himself well, and he was smart enough to not drink too much while he was there.

"Well, I got my first tattoo when I was eighteen. I've always thought of stars as a symbol of freedom, and I got them on my foot just after I moved to Oklahoma City." Brooke then slipped her right boot off and took off her sock, exposing the set of colorful stars so that Matt could look at them. "You've seen my other tattoos. The flower was one that I got with a friend of mine from Oklahoma City. Each of the roses on my side are for each boyfriend I've ever had, and how I've become stronger each time. The stars down my back are for the same reason as the ones on my foot, but they're to remember my move here, and to remind me to stay grounded." Each of Brooke's tattoos had a certain memory or reason behind them, and she was proud of each one. They helped to make her who she was. Even as she continued to sit there, and her headache threatened to become worse, she was too focused on his blue eyes to really care.

((OOC: Sorry this one took so long. I promise, I'll reply to the other one soon. I'm really tired, and sort of sick-ish.))

Matt was feeling a little more laid back and normal, the shock finally passing. His mind was focused on tattoos... and skin... and... other things. That must have been the thing about tattoos. It was more of a surprise to see a sort of decoration on the skin as layers of clothing were lost. It was more visual stimulation than the usual sight. It was also leading him to think he was going to see Brooke with less clothing, which he was realizing more and more, probably wasn't going to happen.

He watched as she explained each tattoo, silently admiring them. She seemed to have quite the extensive background and history with each explanation. She had lived multiple places, making Matt wish that he had lived a few more places before basically finding his place here in Evergreen. Sure he could always find another job and move somewhere he had never been, but that didn't exactly appeal to him, either. His mother liked that he was around, as did his younger siblings. He had lived in Ohio for college, but that was about as far as he got.

Matt wasn't the exciting guy he thought he was. He was just some teacher hadn't actually lived life and got his kicks by sleeping around with women. God forbid he actually be friends with a female and simply talk to her without expecting anything in return. Hell, maybe he should move away, start new. He really wasn't sure what he was going to do once Evan had moved on, back with he husband across the country. He might not be able to stick around. Everything would just remind him of her. He thought about signing up for Vow once that day came, but even that probably wouldn't fix anything.

"Well they fit you very well. Like... they were meant to be there." It was strange how they seemed to fit so nicely on every part of her skin. He figured that if he were to ever get one, it would stick out or be out of place, maybe even crooked. And he kind of liked his body the way it was. He had enough hair to accent his skin, that seemed good enough for now. Matt felt his stomach turn a little bit, and realized he was partially starving. It was a little after five and his stomach was used to a schedule of showering and eating right after work and practice. "Is that aspirin helping any," he motioned his head towards her with a slight smile. "Also... I'm kind of wasting away over here, are you hungry at all? I'm gonna make something, have any preferences?" He walked over to the fridge and opened the door. One hand rested on the handle of the door while leaning his other hand towards the top of the perimeter, above his head. He peered through his stash of food for something to catch his eye.

Brooke smiled at Matt's comment about her tattoos, as she put her sock and her right boot back on, once again covering up the colorful stars. Brooke loved all the tattoos she had, and to her, it was worth enduring the pain if they would help her to remember important things she had learned and experienced. It was nice to know that Matt actually admired them. Most of the men she had met--the ones who had actually seen them--just thought of them as sexy, and nothing else. They hadn't been willing to hear the stories behind them, and those stories were ones that Brooke loved to tell. When she was comfortable, Brooke was a pretty open person, when she chose to be. Most people didn't get to know this stuff about her, and she felt enough about Matt to be comfortable around him, and to tell him more about her.

As Brooke continued to sit there on the counter, the throbbing in her head worsened with each passing minute, and it made her feel like she had a nasty hangover. Obviously, she hadn't been drinking any alcohol since the day before, and so that wasn't a factor. This meant that the headache was being caused by being pushed around on Shane's front doorstep and lawn, and her brain was just trying to get some oxygen. Brooke's hand eventually made it to her forehead, and it covered her eye, another sign that her headache wasn't getting any better. The aspirin had managed to make a dent in the headache, but not enough to make that much of a difference. "I don't think it's helping that much," Brooke said quietly, closing her eyes. The pain itself had moved to the space in between her eyes, making her whole nose throb. "But, I haven't drank a whole lot of water today anyway, so I should probably just keep doing that," she said, trying to smile. She didn't want Matt to be overly worried about her. She was a big girl, and she would be fine.

"Also... I'm kind of wasting away over here, are you hungry at all? I'm gonna make something, have any preferences?" Brooke preferred her food to be spicy, something she had liked ever since she was a kid. Her mother always made their food with a little kick. Brooke hadn't much liked it when she was really young, but after a couple of years, she become accustomed to it and found that she rather liked it. Now, she ate mostly spicy things, though there were things Brooke still wasn't willing to try. "Well, I eat a lot of spicy food, but right now, I don't care, as long as it's edible." Brooke knew she probably shouldn't eat something spicy right now. Spicy things tended to make her head feel a little warmer than normal. Right now, that was the last thing she needed. Taking a deep breath, she scooted off the counter, and when she had landed on her feet, she grabbed the counter, opening and closing her eyes a lot. "Wow...that was dizzy." Brooke then began to walk to the living room, intending to go lay on the couch.

Matt's fingers drummed on the border of the open refrigerator while he kept scanning the food he had stocked on the shelves. He turned his head slightly to her, "Spicy, huh?" He raised an eyebrow with his slightly flirtatious tone. He wanted the mood to lift. He wasn't exactly great with these situations, but still wanted to comfort her, make things better, all that. He couldn't really think of anything that he did to make people feel better except flirting. He was good at it, it's what he knew best. Besides math, that is. But, from years of experience, it was very rare that math made anyone feel good besides himself.

His eyes scanned the shelves faster. Spicy... spicy... spicy... Matt wasn't one to specifically seek out spicy food, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He had just gone to the store and seemed to have a bunch of ingredients for various meals, but couldn't seem to put anything together in his mind while searching through the various levels of the fridge. He thought of what his favorite 'spicy' meal would be and he suddenly saw enough ingredients for a meal. "How about tacos? I might even have a jalapeno or something for ya." He started grabbing hamburger and an onion to start up the process. He basically always made his own food and just ate at home. He didn't seem to trust restaurants and fast food. Matt figured he could make the same thing at home and miraculously make it healthier with less calories and fat and all the unnecessary stuff.

Matt set the hamburger and onion on the counter and reached down to find a pan. As he placed it on the cool stove and turned towards Brooke, she was blinking and said she was dizzy. He slowly took a step towards her, his hands falling on her waist to help her catch her balance. His head ducked down slightly to look in her eyes and see if she was really okay. "Maybe... you should lay down." He helped her into the living room, his arm around her waist, and slowly lowered her on to the couch. He pointed around to various places, "I've got pillows, blankets, anything else you need, just holler. I'm gonna make us some grub, maybe that'll help fix you up." He dashed into the kitchen again and brought out another full glass of water and set it on the coffee table while scooting the remote control right next to it. His glance paused on her for a few seconds and still wondered what monster of a person could do this. He breathed in and headed back into the kitchen, but something popped into his head as walked and paused again, "Just, um, be sure not to fall asleep." He continued into the kitchen. He couldn't remember where he heard it, but anyone with a possible concussion should never fall asleep soon afterward.

Matt threw the hamburger in the pan and quickly chopped up a little bit of the onion just for flavor. He added various spices, knowing exactly what he liked and spicing it up slightly for Brooke. He periodically peeked out of the kitchen to see if she was comfortable on the couch and awake. The whole situation still felt surreal to him. This girl was beaten up and now on his couch. How was he supposed to handle this? How was she supposed to handle this? He certainly expected far more crying and a much more hectic environment. He was thankful it wasn't like that, but it also didn't seem natural. Matt had a tinge of worry in the back of his mind, wondering if she was going to ask him to talk to this guy, or beat him up, or anything along that line. It wasn't his fight, and he really wasn't much of a confrontational guy. Before he knew it, the meat was finished and ready for taco goodness. His thoughts had taken over and he didn't even notice he was still cooking. Grabbing everything else he needed from the fridge, he set it all up buffet style. He strolled into the living room and squatted down next to the couch, getting a little more eye level with Brooke. "Not to brag, but there are some really delicious tacos waiting for you in the kitchen." He tried to smile at her and pushed a piece of hair from her face. He stood up and held out a hand, "Come on, food will do you good."

Brooke stood there, using her hand to keep herself from falling over. This wasn't normally like her, and this was the first time she had ever felt quite like this after a fight. Of course, she had never had a confrontation with a man who was twice her size, but the fact that she was this dizzy was saying something. Moments after she has spoken of feeling dizzy, her vision still sort of swirling around the room, she felt a pair of hands on her waist, and she knew they were Matt's. His right hand was over the spot where her roses tattoo was, though the two were separated by the cloth of Brooke's shirt. She looked down at his hand, and she realized just how much she liked having it there, sort of like how a hand could easily fit a glove. With her eyes half closed, Brooke nodded slowly, allowing him to help her. She couldn't refuse help at this point, as much as she wanted to. She needed him to help her, or she would end up on the floor in a more unfavorable state.

Together, they slowly walked into Matt's living room, where the grey L-shaped couch with multiple colorful pillows sat in the center. The couch itself looked incredibly refreshing to Brooke, as it was a place where she could lie down and get some rest. Slowly, Brooke lowered herself on to the couch, with Matt's help. Once she was laying on the couch, she heard him as he explained that there were pillows, blankets, and whatever else she needed. All she needed to do was say something. "Uh-huh..." she replied, feeling sleepy but not sleepy or dizzy enough to actually sleep. She knew she needed to stay awake, because she could have a concussion, for all she knew. Brooke heard Matt leave and come back, and then she heard the soft clink of something being set on the coffee table nearby. When she looked over, she saw a glass of water, and she gladly took it, taking a small sip before placing it back in its original position. The remote control to his TV was also nearby, but Brooke didn't bother with grabbing it and turning the television on, when the "peace and quiet" was good enough for her.

While Brooke lay there on the couch, she saw the scars on her wrist, from cutting and from one of the times where she had attempted suicide. The incident had happened a year and a half before today, when she had tried to slit her wrists and leave a note. Luckily, her roommate had come home from work early, and had found Brooke lying in the bathtub. Brooke had been taken to the hospital, subjected to a 72-hour mandatory suicide watch, and then had been released from the hospital afterwards. She hadn't tried it since then, but until about four months ago, she had been a bit of a wreck. It was one of the lowest times in her life, and she didn't usually let anybody see it. She would normally wear a bracelet or something to cover it up, but today she hadn't worn any. So, while she was laying there on the couch, anyone who walked by would be able to see it, if they took a second and stopped.

Minutes later, Brooke's eyes were half-open, as she was half-asleep. The fight to stay awake was becoming harder and harder, but she was determined to keep herself up. All she really wanted now was to just spend a little time with Matt, and hopefully he would make her forget what had happened. It was worth a shot, and she also knew that she shouldn't be alone right now, not when there could be something wrong with her. She heard Matt come back, and before she knew it, he was squatting, so that they were almost at the same level. "Not to brag, but there are some really delicious tacos waiting for you in the kitchen." It was then that Brooke noticed a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, and she smiled, closing her eyes. She then felt the hair that had fallen in front of her face being pushed back. Her mouth turned into a half-smile, too tired to smile the entire way. "Come on, food will do you good." Brooke knew he was right. She hadn't had anything for lunch that day, and so she needed to eat something if she was going to have any chance of getting better, without having to resort to a hospital visit. Brooke slowly began to sit up, seeing Matt's hand being held out to her, and she took it with the same hand whose connected wrist sported a scar or two. "Food sounds good," she said, standing up slowly as to keep her balance.

As Matt led her into the kitchen he could feel his stomach rumbling, ready to devour the food he just prepared. Honestly, he wasn't one to share meals with people on a regular basis. Sure, he had lunch with other teachers at work, but it wasn't very often that he got to eat a full cooked actual meal with someone. He had been with many women, but seemed to be more of a home-body during the week. Matt hadn't really realized how much he spent time alone at home in the evenings and was a little glad that Brooke showed up at his doorstep. Granted, the reasoning and condition she was in wasn't due for celebration in any way, but it was nice to have company.

It was strange for Matt to go from a large family, with extravagant meals his mom had spent all day preparing and a fairly large house all the way to being completely alone, in a small apartment with meals that progressively got better as he experimented with more foods. He learned basic cooking from his mom, but wasn't exactly a sous chef or anything. He wanted to blame the loneliness on his womanizing, but he had kind of been doing it since high school. Even if he didn't realize it.

Matt got some plates down from the cupboards and handed one over to Brooke. Hopefully she wasn't too dizzy anymore and could bear to put together her tacos. He waited for her to go first, trying to be polite, even though his stomach was about to jump out of his body. "Go ahead," he motioned towards the small spread of ingredients while he sat back on the opposite counter. After gathering all his food, creating two tacos just to start with, he sat at the small dining table with Brooke. "So, are you feeling any better after laying down? And I hope these are okay, I didn't really make them particularly spicy or anything." He took his first bite and was pleasantly surprised with his own cooking. For some reason, he always lowered his expectations of his own food, only to be surprised at how well he actually did.

Once she was up and standing, Brooke was pretty sure she would be able to make it to the kitchen with minimal help. There had been times in her past when Brooke was actually pretty drunk, though that had been a long time ago. Even then, she had managed to get home, get herself through the doorway, and even into bed without breaking anything or injuring herself. She was a big girl, and she knew what she was doing. She would be able to get up on her own, dust herself off, and get on with life. The only exception with this particular time was that she had come to the home of a friend because she knew it was safer than going home alone.

As Brooke walked closer and closer to the kitchen--with Matt's help, of course--she could smell the food that he had been so nice to prepare. It smelled good, and for Brooke it was almost mouth-watering, since she hadn't eaten a whole lot that day. Normally, she was good when it came to nutrition and stuff. She would have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with a snack in there somewhere. She also knew not to eat after nine at night, since hearing that when you ate after that, the human body converted most of what you ate into fat.

Brooke put her hands on the counter as a precaution, even though she was feeling a bit better, just to make sure that she didn't have a sudden dizzy spell of some sort and end up on the floor. While Brooke waited for Matt to grab plates and stuff, she looked at the food that was lined up along the counter. It reminded her of the last time her mother had made tacos for lunch or dinner, which happened to be the last time Brooke had visited her mother back in Texas. Brooke's mother was actually a decent chef, and though they didn't have much growing up, Nora Lindley knew how to make a good meal out of something. It had made Brooke appreciate food more and more, since she knew there were many people in the world that didn't get to enjoy three meals a day. Once Matt had gotten the plates from the cupboard, Brooke took the one that he handed to her, and she began to make her own tacos, taking only two to start with. She made her tacos fast, since she knew Matt was leaning against the counter, waiting for her. She went and sat at the table when she was done, and not waiting for him, she began to eat. A couple of minutes later, Matt was sitting across from her, enjoying his. "The tacos are great, actually. And, the nap did help a little," she said, smiling as she continued to eat.

As she was eating, Brooke saw her wrists again, and she began to wonder if Matt had seen them as he had helped her into the kitchen? If he had, then he probably had at least one question about them, though Brooke wouldn't be surprised if he had more than one. The question was, should she bring them up? Brooke wasn't one to broadcast her struggles with depression and suicide to the world, but she knew that if she kept them from her friends, then they would find out somehow, and then Brooke would have some explaining to do. It was better to just get it over with, anyway. Brooke set her taco down, and once she took a drink of water, she spoke. "Did you...when you were helping me, did you see my wrists?" she asked, now slightly nervous, which was very uncharacteristic of her.

As Matt started to eat his food, he seemed to take gigantic bites and eat faster as he started to actually taste it. When Brooke responded to his questions, he looked up and nodded while mumbling out something that sounded like ”Good, good,” through all the food in his mouth. Not exactly the best manners, but that’s just how he was. When it came to food, it was a no holds bar. He ate a lot and he ate fast, he rarely talked while eating. He figured he should be more in touch with the world for this particular meal, seeing as though he had company. Company that probably needs a little more attention than his tacos do.

Matt thought for a second, had he seen her wrists while helping her? He didn’t really look, he was a little more concerned with getting her whole body safely to the kitchen. She wasn’t completely helpless, but he didn’t want her to pass out or something while he just stood by and watched. Needless to say, he wasn’t really focusing on any scars. ”Um, no, I don’t think so. Just your tattoo there.” He held his taco in one hand, slightly hunched over the plate with his forearms resting on the edge of the table. He used his taco to slightly motion to her tattooed wrist.

Matt wondered why she had asked about her scars. Had she hidden them before? Was he not supposed to see them? The first thought that always came to mind when you heard about scars on someone’s wrist was a suicide attempt. He didn’t think it was that. It couldn’t be that, could it? She had seemed like such a peppy, carefree girl the first night they met. How could this girl have felt so down that she would want to commit suicide? His heart seemed to drop slightly at the thought. ”Wh… Why do you ask?” He had seemed to stop eating for a few moments while his attention was suddenly drawn to her wrists now. He saw some light colored lines on her wrist but didn’t really want to stare. He never really understood how people could feel that low. Matt had his share of low points, but nothing that drastic. Then again, he never had someone who he thought was a sibling beat him up on their front lawn the first time they met. There must have been more to this story and he was almost a little worried to hear all of it. Sure, everyone had their backgrounds and secrets, but it seemed like Brooke had a bit more than anyone else he knew.

Even though she had food in her mouth, Brooke wanted to laugh at Matt. He could be so funny sometimes, though this time he seemed even funnier than normal because she was a bit out of it. Still, it was a laugh that Brooke needed badly, and she took a drink of water to wash the food down her throat. These tacos were actually quite good. Brooke was a pretty good cook, but these tasted better than anything she had recently made. There must have been something that he had put into the taco meat, something to make it taste this good.

After she was done asking Matt about anything that he may have seen, she looked down, breathing in a sigh of relief. Of course, she knew he would probably think about it more and more now that she had mentioned it, but she needed to explain it to him if their friendship was going to progress. Her counselor, the one she had seen after the most recent attempt, had told her that she needed to tell her friends about it, because having a good support system in your life was something that everyone needed, especially if you were going to try to commit suicide again. Having a good support system would hopefully prevent it from happening, and for Brooke, she needed it especially. The attempt by slitting her wrists was her latest out of three previous attempts, during a deep depression she had fallen into several months before moving to Evergreen. Of course, she had gone through therapy after it, and her therapist had prescribed prescription medication this time, since it had been the third time Brooke had tried. She was lucky to have avoided being locked up in an institution.

"Wh...Why do you ask? Those four words wanted to make Brooke choke on the food she had just swallowed. He was asking questions. He was actually asking about it. Crap. Brooke had been secretly wishing that he would just ignore what she had asked about, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. For a couple of minutes, Brooke pushed the food that had fallen from her tacos around with a fork, trying to figure out just how to tell him about that dark part of her life. Sighing, Brooke set the fork down, and she lifted her head to look into his eyes. "It was...it was a really dark time in my life. Several months ago, I was in a serious relationship, and I never thought I would find my best friend in bed with my roommate. I just couldn't handle it, I guess. So, a couple of days later, I stayed home from work, climbed into the shower, grabbing a knife from the kitchen on my way through. My roommate found me about 30 minutes later, when she came home early from work. If she hadn't found me, I wouldn't...be here right now." Brooke took a deep breath before continuing on. "It wasn't the first time, either." After finishing, Brooke looked off to the side. Matt would probably hate her now. It was alright, though. The man she knew was her biological brother hated her already, so it was only one more person to add to the list.

Maybe it wasn't polite to ask about her scars, but he really wasn't the one that brought it up. If he didn't ask, he would be thinking about nothing but how they could have gotten there. He had already guessed completely wrong on the reasons behind her busted lip until she finally told him the whole story. Then again, there are fewer reasons behind scars on someone's wrist. Sure, she could have worked in a pizza shop and burned her wrists on the edge of an oven or something, but highly unlikely. Perhaps she brought it up because she didn't want him getting the wrong idea. It was a completely unrelated accident. But again, probably not.

As soon as Brooke started to explain her scars on her wrist Matt knew it was what he dreaded hearing. Matt had frozen in place and didn't know what to say. She went on with her story and he listened intently. What else was he supposed to do? He certainly couldn’t look uninterested. At least mentoring was good for one thing – knowing how to listen. Granted, this was a much larger issue. There weren’t many kids at Evergreen high with huge depression issues, none that came to him for help, at least. Matt was doing fine until she said the words, ”in bed with my roommate.” His eyes dropped from hers. Memories flashed through his mind of his past but shoved them aside to listen to the rest of her story. Matt really didn’t know what to say. She had done this more than once. His first honest thought was that it seemed like a rather drastic move after finding your boyfriend in bed with your friend. His next thought involved his past. He had been that guy, in a way. Going from one roommate to the next, getting yelled at, kicked out. The only difference was the ‘serious relationship’ she had mentioned. Now he had to figure out what to say. He couldn’t say what he thought.

Matt rubbed his hand over his mouth and assessed the ‘situation’ at hand. ”Wow… I…” He stumbled trying to find something to say, maybe some consoling words. His elbows hopped up to the table and he folded his hands in front of his mouth still. It was as if his hands were physically holding back his words and opinions. He tried to put it into one simple sentence that didn’t show too much pent up anger, ”Brooke… nothing… no one is worth your life.” He had genuine eyes and a look of concern until his eyes looked a little to the side and a little glazed over. He couldn’t really say that and believe it. He would probably give his life for Evan at the drop of a hat. He shook his head slowly. ”Have you… you’ve told someone about this, right? Gotten help?” Matt’s true feelings about suicide was that it was selfish, cowardly, etc. But every time he thought about himself and his actions in life, he could also be described as selfish and cowardly. Now he could add hypocrite to the pile, too.

Brooke couldn't look into Matt's eyes at this point. She was now feeling the same shame and remorse she had felt each time she had tried, only to be proven wrong each time. After all, she was still living and breathing, wasn't she? Each time, she had been at an extremely low point, something Brooke never thought was possible. Growing up, she had always been a pretty happy, content young woman. Nothing could seem to dampen her spirits, but things had changed; people change.

She could hear Matt stumble his words, and it hadn't been the first time that someone had reacted in such a manner. Brooke wasn't one to advertise the dark parts of her past, and so only a select few people knew about what had happened. All of them had reacted in just about the same manner. They all had been shocked, but Matt was one of the few to actually stumble over his words. It was probably the shock that was causing him to do this, but there were other reasons as well. Brooke just didn't know what those were.

When she finally looked back up at Matt, she saw that his eyes were a little glazed over. Did he not genuinely care about what she had just said? Brooke couldn't tell, because she didn't know him enough. She had only known this man for a week, and it was incredibly hard to fully know someone in such a short amount of time, unless you were some superhuman nut who could read people so easily. "Barely anyone knows about it. I just...I don't want people to see me as some suicidal nutcase. I...I have help. It's just not here in Evergreen. I...I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up," she said, standing up quickly. Maybe she should leave. This was obviously making him uncomfortable. She then proceeded to leave.

Matt wished he could have said some more intelligent words, maybe something less scarce and empty. The only other option was to tell her how stupid he thought suicide was, and that would only make the situation worse. He was lost in a fog and completely blind-sided. Not only had she been beaten up by someone she thought was a new family member, but she had all this past. He definitely didn't want to make her feel worse about it. He shouldn't have asked if she got help. Maybe that was asking too much too soon.

She had mentioned that barely anyone knew about it and he was suddenly curious as to why he was one of the chosen few. He hardly knew her, she hardly knew him. He didn't mind all too much, he just didn't know what to do with the information. Was he making it look like he thought she was a nut case? "No, you're not a nut case..." He tried to interject. He dropped one of his hands down on the table, wanting to take her hand as a comforting gesture, but it simply fell to the table top. One second he was listening her, ready to defend that he didn't think badly of her, he was just concerned, and the next second she was up and leaving.

Matt's hands fell outward and he half shrugged, "Wait... what?" His face was confused and concerned and he got up from his chair quickly. As he got up he stubbed his toe on the table, causing him to release a muffled curse word and slightly hopped towards the doorway of the kitchen. "Brooke, what? Wait." He was lost, his toe hurt and he couldn't let her leave like this. Sure, other girls had left in a huff, but those were other circumstances. They weren't what he might consider a friend. Matt stepped in front of the main door to his apartment before she could leave. "Brooke, listen, I'm sorry if I did anything to upset you, I didn't mean to. Honest." His hand ran over his hair quickly and he landed his hands on her arms, "It was shocking information, but I'm so glad you're okay. I mean... otherwise I wouldn't know you. And you're a great girl. I just don't know why you'd want to do that, and I will probably never understand. But, please don't leave... Not like this." It seemed Matt had actually gained a conscience in the past couple years, finally. "Come on." He didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but he pulled her into a good Matt Hunter hug, maybe something he should have done right away when he saw how beat up she was.

Brooke wasn't sure how much longer she could stay there. Sure, Matt was being really nice. He was nice enough to try and make her feel a little better, He had been nice enough to take her in for a little while and help bandage up the injuries she had suffered. But, she could only stay for so long. She now began to feel as if she was a burden to him, by bringing this up. It only seemed right that he should know, before he got any ideas, but Brooke wasn't sure if she could handle talking about it now. Her past suicide attempts had been a sort of sensitive subject for a while now, and it didn't help that she had tried over and over again. She was lucky not to be on some sort of medication, or confined to some white padded room, with a friendly little white jacket to wear.

Brooke could hear his pleas for her to stay. She could always stay, and maybe try to smooth this awkward moment over as best as possible. At the same time, she wasn't sure if it was worth it. The entire situation was already awkward enough, and there was the possibility that she could ruin it more. Brooke looked behind her, over her shoulder, to see Matt's face. He looked like he was in a little bit of pain, which was probably why Brooke had heard him say a could of curse words under his breath. He had probably hurt himself on something. As she continued to look at him, she opened her mouth to say something, but it quickly shut once more. She wasn't sure if anything she said would help.

When she looked downward, then back up again, Matt wasn't where he had been seconds before. Now, he was in front of the door, blocking the only way in and out of the apartment. "Matt, just let me leave, please," she asked calmly, crossing her arms at her chest. She just wanted to leave, go to her own apartment, and climb under a blanket while watching some sappy movie. Then, she would probably fall asleep on the couch, where she would try and forget what had happened. But, he didn't move. As Brooke stood there, Matt began to plead with Brooke, since he apparently wanted her to stay there, to not leave in this sort of a fashion.

When she felt Matt's hands on her arms, Brooke uncrossed them, allowing them to fall to the sides of her body. "Matt, I...I don't know if you want to do this. You don't understand. I'm damaged goods, alright? I'm pretty sure you don't want to deal with that. It just isn't worth it." Brooke could stand to look him with the eye, not now at least. With each breath she took, her chest rose up and down slowly, as she was trying to calm herself down. Things didn't work this way. They just didn't. Brooke wasn't ready for the hug that Matt gave her, but it seemed like it was...necessary. That was what broke her. She didn't cry, but she felt like she wanted to. The tears just didn't want to come out. Slowly, Brooke wrapped her own arms around him, and laid her head on his shoulder. "Thanks," she whispered. "Thanks for being...a really good friend." She then lifted her head up, but she didn't let go of Matt. Slowly, a smile tried to appear across her face, now that she was feeling a little better about this.

Matt wasn't sure what it was the drove him to make her stay, either guilt or compassion, but either way, he couldn't let her leave just yet. He had spent too many years being the asshole that let girls storm out for one thing or another. This was drastically different, this wasn't the morning after bedtime shenanigans, but he had to make the situation better. End on a good note, maybe.

Brooke mentioned 'damaged goods' and he just got a confused look on his face. How did this get so out of hand? He had no idea what she even meant. Why couldn't he be friends with someone who had a rough past? He really didn't understand. He had briefly wondered if she meant... relationship wise. Not just friends. He really hoped not. At this point, if he turned her down for a real relationship, she would most likely think it was because of her past and dark secrets. "Brooke, come on, we all have our problems. I have some baggage of my own, it happens." He certainly wasn't a perfect little angel or anything. One of the main reasons he was keeping her here... to make up for his shitty past.

He was thrilled to see that the Matt hug made her smile. And she actually called him a good friend. That was a first. That made him smile himself. It looks as though he might be slowly redeeming himself. It was a very small step, but it was a step nonetheless. "There you go." He replied back softly. Matt was still holding the hug as well, but he almost felt that if he let her go they would both just crumble a little bit. One hand raised up and his thumb brushed the area underneath where her lip had been cut. "Good news, it's looking better already." He gave another smile to try and make her feel a little better. Matt also couldn't help but notice that he was falling back into his old ways, laying on the charm.

There were so many things in Brooke's past that she wanted to tell Matt about, to help him understand why she considered herself to be damaged goods. He didn't know that she took medication everyday for depression. Brooke had told Matt about her most recent suicide attempt, and she had said that it hadn't been the first time; thing is, he didn't know how many times she had tried it before. He didn't know her complete past, just like she didn't know his. Maybe it was better that way. He didn't need to get too involved into her life, or he would end up being sucked right in.

Matt was a really good friend to Brooke, but Brooke didn't think of him as more than that. From the moment she had first laid eyes on him, she had thought differently. Then again, she had just come out of what proved to be a pointless relationship, and so her head wasn't on quite right. "Yeah, I know. Everyone's baggage is unique, I guess." Now, she thought of Matt as more of a big brother, even though only a week had passed. The hype of seeing him in the club had worn off.

Brooke continued to keep her arms around Matt. Some people would think that they had been hugging for too long, but Brooke was sure that she would disagree with them. Brooke hadn't received a hug like this for a long time, and maybe, it was what she needed right then. "I guess it was a good thing that I came over, then." Brooke couldn't help but look down and blush a little when Matt brushed the area under her split lip with his thumb. She even smiled and laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Still, Brooke knew that she needed to leave. There were things that she still needed to do: clean up her apartment, buy more liquor for the club and deliver it. That last thing on her to-do list was going to be interesting, since her face looked positively horrible. "Um, Matt...I still think I need to go. I have to clean my apartment, and I still need to buy and drop off liquor for the club...I'm so, so sorry," Brooke said, in an apologetic tone. She didn't want to leave, but she knew she needed to.