What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

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 Notes: gone. Case: destroyed. What little I had was gone. There was nothing left. Nothing at all. This is what I was complaining to Zoey and Sam about.

"Everything's gone, Sam," I moaned. I was stretched out on Zoey's couch, my head in Sam's lap. Zoey's cat Shadow was on my legs. Lucifer was on Zoey, who sat cross-legged on the floor.

"Getting in without a key is easy. But locking the door again? What's the point of that?" Sam asked.

"Who the hell knows?" I said.

"You're sure they didn't come through the window?"

"The window locks from the inside. It would have been impossible. And have you tried to open Amber's windows? Talk about impossible, anyway," Zoey said.

I didn't care how the person got in. Everything I had on both cases was gone. Disappeared. Most likely a pile of ashes. I was back at square zero.

Shadow must have sensed how miserable I was. He nuzzled against my cheek.

There was a knock at Zoey's door. She pushed Lucifer off of her and got off the floor. Sam patted my head when she left to get the door. It felt sort of nice.

"Amber! Edward's here!" Zoey called. I groaned. I didn't want to talk to him.

"Eddie baby's waiting for you," Sam said when I didn't move.

I started to get up. "I'm only going just because I know you'll keep saying that. You know I hate it."

Sam smirked. "I know."

Edward was leaning against Zoey's doorway. I pushed him into the hall and shut the door behind us. He stood there, self-assured as always. His face was adorned with his everlasting smirk. I wasn't in the mood for his narcissism or theatrics.

"I'm warning you now, Edward, I'm not happy," I said. He took me by the arm.

"I heard about what happened. You and I are going out to lift your mood," he said. He started pulling me down the hall.

"What? Maybe I don't want to go." I didn't do much in the way of resisting, even as I said that.

"I think you do."

I rolled my eyes. He was so stupidly confident it was ridiculous. I had never met someone so full of themselves.

Even if he was right.

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I had expected him to take me somewhere with higher standards than I had ever had. He didn't, most likely because I look awful. He might've looked fine, but I looked like trash. I was surprised he even wanted to be seen with me.

No, he took us to the bar where we met. Not that I was really complaining. I really needed a drink.

"Do you want to talk about your situation?" he asked.

"Not really," I said. He leaned against the counter.

"Why?"

"Because I'm pissed. I'm furious. And a lot of other things. I don't want to talk about the damn story, the damn asylum, or anything else I was meant to be writing about."

"Did you quit?" Edward asked. He was sipping some green drink. It looked nasty.

"No. I think I'm pissed enough that I want to try again. It's not like I had much to start with anyway," I said. "But I don't want to talk about that. Talk about something else."

"Something else?" he said. His smirk seemingly grew bigger. "Romance?"

"What romance?" I laughed. "No, no romance."

"No time or no interest?" he asked. Edward leaned closer. I could smell mint on his breath.

"Both? But I suppose it would be no time more than no interest."

"So you do have an interest?"

"I never said that."

Edward chuckled. "You didn't have to, my dear."

I didn't know what he meant. I mean I did, I knew what he was implying. Edward couldn't possibly have an interest in me, though. I was too plain and far less intelligent than he was. I hardly thought I was the type he ever took an interest in.

"What about you?" I asked, hoping to steer the conversation from me and onto him.

"There is one woman. Red hair, hazel eyes. A light splash of freckles across her nose. Annoying at certain times and far too inquisitive. Smart, kind, but can have a mean-streak. Do you have any idea who I'm talking about, Amber?" he rattled off. I sat wide-eyed. My cheeks were warm.

"No idea," I said softly. I swear he got even closer.

"You're sure?" he asked again.

"Yeah," I whispered.

He kissed me. And I let him. I shouldn't have, but I did. I did, and I hated it. I did, and I loved it. It was amazing and terrible. It was something part of me wanted, but another, smaller part didn't want. But I let him. I let him without much hesitation.

There was no doubt in my mind that it had been the best part of my awful week.

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A/N: So I'm kind of a piece of garbage for not updating in over a month. I have no excuses, either. Hope you enjoy this little thing anyway!

Chapter title borrowed from Raymond Carver

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