Some secrets aren't meant to be told.

AW MY GAWD PEYTON DO YOU HATE ME.


I HATE ME.


I SORRY.


I HAVE BEEN AWAY DUE TO GROUNDING I SORRY I LOVE YOU


*hangs self, which, coincidently, CAN be screwed up.


I will reply now.... 
Dante lead Peyton to the taxi and didn't say a word as she slipped in beside him, sitting comfortably close. To this, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her small frame into his side, keeping her pinned.


"Where to?" the elderly woman behind the wheel asked, and Dante gave her the address to his apartment. More than anything, he wanted her to like where she'd be staying. Thinking back to how he hadn't answered her question, Dante sighed and leaned his head back against the seat.


"It was my second--no, third grade year, so I'm eight. I have a nonexistent mother due to her meth use, and a father who has barely enough money to pay for food and booze in the same week," Dante started, thinking back to the years before he got out. "I came home and the parents where fighting. Mom left, Dad went to take his anger out on me. People were already starting to question the bruises, the way I flinched when they got too close, but it didn't matter to him.


He backhanded me and suddenly it was like I had blacked out. It was surreal. When I came to again, I was in bed. I thought he'd beaten the tar out of me, and then I realized how bad my hands hurt. I was all scraped up like I'd been fighting. I beat my father to a pulp and he never touched me again. Years later I was in a fight at school, and that's when I learned he existed." Dante half smiled. He remembered too well what it was like to wake up and know he was safe. Dante leaned his head on top Peyton's head now, relaxed. "Do you pity me?"
 
Once they were in the cab, Peyton wrinkled her nose. This was only the second time she'd ever been a cab. To her it was almost exciting, the idea, until she actually got inside. Dante had pulled Peyton into him now, and she could feel her heart slamming in her chest. 'Stop it' she commanded herself, but of course it didn't listen.


Peyton, with a look of confusion on her face as Dante began his story started to interrupt, but realized quickly he was answering her question from before. She listened quietly, her heart aching for him. His story wasn't long, but the way he told it, and his use of words had more affect on her than any story she could have read from a page.


It was when he spoke to her, with a question from his heart that Peyton snapped back, pulling in her emotions. It was a sad question, that if she gave an honest answer and it wasn't the one he wanted, it could break him. He'd slipped his head down, to rest on hers and she smiled; it was comfortable there. Peyton thought for a moment, and tried to shake her head as best she could in response, "How could I pity someones scarred past, when it's made them such a beautiful person today?" Peyton whispered, her eyes on the brown leather of the seat in front of her. "But, though I do understand why you would ask me that. I don't understand how anyone would feel sorrow for your past when there are things to be celebrated into your present, and future," Peyton's eyes as she spoke were distant, as though what she had said had some relation herself.


The truth was, people pitied her. Her past was sad, along with her present, and well she had no future. Pity was something Peyton never felt for others, but knew the sting of all to well when projected back onto herself. To her it was an unforgiving emotion, pity. People pity you, and therefore you stand no real chance in the world, peoples feelings for your sorrow holding you back from knowing the real person in front of you, never knowing if you've tried your hardest because people have made it easy for you.


Peyton's mind raced a moment longer before she shook the long train of thoughts away, "Do you pity me?" Was all that Peyton said after the long moment of silence. 
GURL YOU WERE GROUNDED A LONG TIME


WHA CHU DEW GURL. :U


GETTIN' YERSELF IN TRUBBLE.


I missed you, glad you're back. <3 8D
 
Dante almost laughed. She was so sweet. He could feel his heart starting to pick up the longer she talked. It was intoxication, addiction, adrenaline all in one when she sat next to him. Peyton said she didn't pity such a beautiful person, but she asked for reassurance she'd not be pitied. Dante thought for a moment, looking deep within himself to see if pity really was resting somewhere in his heart.


"Pity..." Dante tried the word mixed with her face in his mind. "No. I think I feel admiration most. You've managed to..." survive. "Show the world you can really last, and now there's nothing in the way of that." Dante said. Their conversation had changed from the truth game they'd been playing to something a little more personal. Hd didn't care if the cab driver heard him, he didn't care what the people on the street thought, as long as he could take on the world with Peyton.


The cab pulled over on the street of his apartment, and when Dante paid the cab driver seemed to give him a special little smile. This smile said 'Good for you.' Thank you, I think I did pretty well myself too. Dante smiled back to her, helping Peyton from the car.
 
Peyton exhaled a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He told her no and that meant more to her than he'd probably never know. When the cab stopped Peyton felt almost disappointed, she didn't like being in the cab but, she did like being close to Dante however.


Once they were outside, and looking up at a rather nice apartment building Peyton looked over at Dante. "Is this where you live?" She asked her eyes brows raised. Her apartment was tiny, run down, and all together crappy. Now, these apartments weren't the best in the world, they were MUCH nicer than her own. It was a merical that she even could afford the one she lived in now.


She stood close to Dante now, being in a new part of town made her nervous. There were a lot more people around, and some even stared at the two of them on the sidewalk. It was then that Peyton wondered what the two of them looked like; friends, lovers, siblings...? As she thought, she felt her cheeks redden and she looked down at her feet.
 
Stepping from the cab, Peyton had the distinct aura of a dancer or a ray of light. She saw his apartment and didn't seem disgusted, because it was now also hers. Dante had no shame linking arms with her and leading her across the street and up the stairs to her new home.


Inside was a plain apartment for company, although he never had any, but his room was a conflict of a large wallpaper of a nebula in purple and white and the rest pictures he drew, and pictures Blake drew. The difference was astonishing; Dante was whimsical, and Blake was serious and morbid, so Dante hid those as best as he could. His signature was even different in his 'different form' as he liked to say it for fun.


"So, I'll be taking the pull out couch, uh, the bathroom is connected to the bedroom. if you don't want me in the room just close the door, that's what my family does. The kitchen is to the left of the living room, and whatever is in the fridge you're welcome to." Dante said, blushing.
 
Peyton blushed lightly when his arm linked with hers, and she let him lead her up to her new home. Once inside she smiled. It wasn't very big though bigger than her apartment, so it was actually a rather nice change. She looked around, there were wonderful drawings everywhere, tons of them and they reminded her of some of her things that were in HER apartment. She did charcoals mostly, and several spaces were taken up by them where books didn't reside.


Peyton was glad though, that Dante hadn't wanted to go to her apartment to gra her things because the place was hideous. There was actually signs of an attack she'd had a while ago still staining her apartment that she'd been meaning to clean up. But, the events of the last few days had prevented that.


Shaking her head internally Peyton shifted her mind back to what it was Dante was saying, but she looked almost horrified when he said something about taking the pull out couch and giving her the bedroom, "What!?" She asked astonished, "There is no way I can take over your room," She said backing up from him. Her hands were up in refusal, "I can't just come in and take over like that," Peyton said her eyebrows knitted with worry.


Peyton felt almost sick by the thought, it was like she was taking advantage of him. Here he was offering her a place to live, where she couldn't even pay rent. "I can't even afford to help with rent, you deserve your own living space," Peyton told him, glancing uneasily at his bedroom door. "I can hang a sheet up and make my own little walls," She said and looked over at Dante. She smiled then, "You've already done so much for me, I couldn't ask for more," Peyton had locked eyes with him now. They were intense and glowed in the late afternoon light that poured from the window.
 
Her face was shining example of purity, selflessness and charity. Dante took her tiny wrist and brought them down. "Peyton I am not only much bigger, but much more stubborn than you," he reminded her with a smile. "I will sleep where I wish, and if I want to I will sleep on the Murphy. Besides, this room isn't large enough for two, just one. And you'll have an easy job soon, I know it. My job does enough for me, so as long as you don't leave lights running and take showers less than three hours, we won't have much of a raise in the prices. I have to much faith in you because you can do it." Dante said, beaming and letting go to let her get set up. "But I am taking my pillow," he said and snatched it from the bed. "I will find you an extra but my pillow is mine, that's all I ask."


It was all he could ask of her. She, a pretty, smart new friend who was sick and needed help was accepting his poor Knight-in-Shining-Armor complex with open arms. He leaned down and pulled out the plastic long box from under her bed that was stuffed with books. "Here's something to occupy you if you get bored too. I also have a drawing esel under there if you'd like to try your hand at painting. You hate painter's hands," Dante said, showing his thin hands that were similar to hers.
 
Peyton frowned then, when he demanded he take the pull out. "Well, fine, but know that I don't like this," She said and followed him into his bedroom. When he snatched up his pillow and held it like it was the only thing more important to him in the world and she laughed then. There was something about Dante that just made her happy. He was so full of life and outgoing, not to mention handsome.


When her mind wandered to his looks a little longer and then she mentally slapped herself. She needed to stop thinking about that. Peyton was going to be living with him, and she was pretty sure that Dante would never even go there so there was just no point.


"Well, there isn't much for me to set up," Peyton said looking up at Dante. She backed up against the bed to get out of his way as he pulled out a box of books. She backed up to far though, so it forced her knees to buckle and make her sit down. "I actually charcoal," Peyton admitted, looking down at Dante's slender yet strong hands. "Painting isn't my forte," She explained and then glanced over at the door.


"I actually need to go get some things from my apartment," She said and looked back to Dante. She hoped then that Dante wouldn't offer to go with her, or more exactly stubbornly tell her he was going. She didn't want to see the mess that looked more like a crime scene than someone's home.
 
As a home, an apartment to a person who lives along the way Peyton does is a sanctuary, so Dante nodded and left it open...mostly. "Alright, well if you need any help moving anything or clothes, call me. Here," Dante said, fishing out a twenty. "Call a cab from the phone in the kitchen and I'll make some space and clean a few personal items out, maybe shop for dinner. If I'm not home before you, use my key," Dante said, wrapping the key in the money. "You can pay me back by helping with dinner later," he smiled, trying not to want to hold her closer than just a hug, close like the way he'd seen two people totally in sync held each other. Dante had seen that with two friends of his, and it was like their bodies were two puzzle pieces and all was right when they were in arms grasp.


"I...I'm happy you're here. You're my first friend in years," Dante said, reminding himself why he moved seven states away to rid himself of a past.
 
Peyton, who wanted to reject the money didn't. He wanted to help her and it was rude of her to keep denying him that. She slipped the money into a small breast pocket of her dress and looked up at Dante. He was happy she was here? Those few words made her want to scream with joy. No one had ever been this nice to her, not a single person. But, she stopped herself from attacking him with a hug and looked him in the eyes "Do you like pasta?" She asked him with one of her sweetest smiles yet. "I make a killer spaghetti," She explained and laughed slightly.


As she waited for him to reply she made her way for the door, glad that he didn't offer to go with her right away. She looked over her shoulder as she walked and stopped at the door, "Are you heading out?" She asked him finally realizing what he had said about possibly not being home before her.
 
"I love spaghetti. I'll be sure to pick up some. I have to grocery shop for me and you now, so I'll be gone maybe an hour max, okay? I also have to swing by the post office for my check, shop, and then I'll come home. Please be careful, don't hurt yourself kiddo," he smirked, waving goodbye as he held open the door for her and walked his own way, feeling a little lonely without her sunshine face and heart-filled smile beside him. She may be delicate as glass but honestly, she was a pillar. She was something to better himself for. Dante may have to go back on the medication to keep Blake at bay, but it may be worth it for a friend.
 
Peyton watched him walk off until he was gone and walked off toward the street.


-about 45 minutes later-


Peyton had grabbed one suitcase full of clothes, and one suitcase full of books and art supplies. She'd made it back to the apartment with no problem. When Peyton got back though, it appeared that Dante hadn't made it back yet still running errands.


"I guess I should just unpack then," Peyton said to herself once she made it inside. She had set the change from her cab ride on the counter along with Dante's key. It didn't take her too long but, Peyton got her two suitcases into the bedroom where she tossed one on the bed.


Before she started to unpack though, she thought about getting a drink from the small but lovely kitchen Dante had. She felt slightly off though now, not having remembered to take her medicine. She walked into the kitchen and started looking through the cupboards for a glass. It hit her then, hard. The hacking started with no mercy just as Peyton had found a glass and pulled it down into her hand. It inevitably slipped to the tile and shattered, Peyton following it to the floor. She hit it with a loud thud fighting for air in between blood filled coughs. Her hand and lips had quickly turned red, and she fell back onto her back.


The ceiling of Dante's apartment was spinning now has her chest heaved up and down quickly, the shallowness of it sad. Peyton's breathing sounded watery as she tried to pull in as much air as possible. It was hard now, for her to keep her eyes open as she slipped in and out of consciousness. But as she lay there fighting for air and bleeding out of the corner of her mouth the only thing she could think of was how pathetic it was to have an attack now where Dante would find her later. With that last thought Peyton slipped into the darkness laying still on the tile, broke glass beside her. The only movement she made was her attempt at breathing.
 
Dante came home with heavy bags of good pasta and sauce, vegetables and a grin on his face. "Peyton, you here?" Dante didn't hear a sound, and the key was on the counter. He passed the kitchen a glow of white a red catching his eye. "Jesus!" Dante swore, dropping the bags and crossing quickly to Peyton and lifting her head from the pool of blood. His hands sweat and fear swallowed him whole, and he patted her back hard to try and get her to breathe. "Peyton, wake up! Peyton!" Dante yelled, roaring almost past the welt of panic in his throat. He flipped her over, even in the small trickling pool of blood and tried to remember how to remove liquid from the lungs as a life guard one summer. He began thumping her back hard, pushing the blood form her mouth as tears began to rise. "Peyton can you here me?"
 
Peyton, though it took her a while took in a large gasp of air. Her eyes had flown open and she was looking over the shoulder of someone. It only took her a second to realise that the someone she was being held by was Dante.


His hand came down swiftly on her back once more and she pried herself free slightly to look him in the face. Her face was slightly stained with tears and sweat, her face whiter than normal and her lips red with blood. Parts of her hair were stained and sticky with blood but all she cared about at that point was the person looking down at her.What she saw on Dante's face wasn't what she had been expecting, there were tears. He was crying slightly, and shaking as he gripped her with a force that felt like he was willing her to stay.


As he held her there, she was so close to him. She could smell him, and feel her heart pounding hard in his chest. He'd been so worried about her and guilt ran through her making her heart hurt like hell.


"Dante," Peyton finally spilled out, and she couldn't help but give him a sad smile. "I'm sorry," She whispered her voice weak and rough, and lifted a hand to wipe his face gently. "I-i've made such a mess," She said looking over to the blood and glass on the tile floor before looking back up at him and dropping her hand from his face. It was almost funny to think that though she could have died, she was worried about the mess she'd made in his kitchen.
 
She muttered his name and broke the silence of his fears, and she looked to him with scared eyes. They both knew she had been close to death, if she'd drowned in her own blood...Dante bowed his head and sighed, sniffling away the tears. "Don't...do that to me any more. You have to keep up on your meds, Peyton! You could have died! And then I'd have a haunted apartment and nobody would live here or buy it from me, and then I'd have to be here alone with your ghost and I'm pretty sure you'd be a sad ghost!" Dante rambled, using humor to help himself back together. He looked around at the glass and a puddle of deep red blood, heavy with iron and air, and he smiled. "You are going to take your meds, change and sit on the couch and watch a movie while you wait for yourself to compose, don't worry about the blood. I'll get it," Dante said, taking his thumb and wiping up the blood and the smears of of sweat mixed in.
 
Peyton listened to him go on and on about her being a ghost and being sad and she laughed at that. A weak smile spread across her lips. But, the next thing she did was much more serious and precious to her than that.


Weakly, Peyton leaned forward and wrapped her arms and firmly as she could around Dante hugging him close to her.


"It was nice to not wake up alone this time," She murmured into the crook of his neck. They way she was holding onto him so desperately but also so....tenderly. Peyton fit against him more perfectly than she had ever fit against anyone. It was a nice feeling, being in someones arms even if a near death experience is what got her there.


As Peyton laid there in his arms, her holding him so close to her she felt a blush faintly rise on her cheeks. It would have been a deeper red if she hadn't of just had an attacked. Her heart was slamming in her chest now as she felt nerves settle in. She didn't feel horribly sick at the moment, just horribly nervous for being so close to him. But, oddly she didn't want to let him go.
 
Dante felt warmth when she held him, because holding somebody is letting them closer than anybody else is allowed. Holding her, scooping up her legs and resting them on his lap, they sat in the kitchen and Dante rested his cheek on her warm red hair. "Don't scare me like that again, okay? You need to be careful. We were so lucky this time," Dante's heart raced in fear and in happiness. She was going to survive; did she need a life alert for Christ Sake? Looping his arms around her shoulders, he pulled her close until they were almost inseparable, two puzzle pieces.


"C'mon, couch," he demanded, helping her up and avoiding the blood. He dragged her over until he could rest her carefully against the soft cushion where she could relax and heal a bit. "What can I get you?"
 
Peyton stayed close to him, and felt her cheeks blush more as he pulled her in closer. She was as close to him as she could possibly get, yet when he pulled her into his lap she was even closer. Something about being this close to Dante set Peyton's senses ablaze but she pushed the thought away as Dante started helping her up.


Once she made it over to the couch Peyton laid down on her side, looking up at Date who was looming over him now, "Nothing, I'm okay," She told him, forcing a shy smile. She looked away from him then trying to hide the nervousness she felt. Peyton looked rather small curled up on the couch with her knees drawn toward her chest. Her now slightly stained hair fanned out over the couch cushion, "I can help clean up in a minute, " She told him still not looking up at him again.
 
She was probably embarrassed, he thought, and Dante nodded, heading back to the kitchen to clean up. First he picked glass and plucked shards from the surface of her blood pool, throwing them into the recycling bin quickly. Then, he found a scrubby brush and bleach, making his tiles white again after a half hour. Every so often he would glance over to make sure she was alright or comfortable. "I'll start dinner in a few okay? Don't worry about a thing. You're having my spaghetti tonight, and next week you'll cook," Dante promised. He didn't want to make her feel inadequate, so he hoped she'd smile. Poor Peyton, but he he'd never say that aloud.
 
Peyton laid there quietly, watching Dante move through the kitchen when he wasn't looking at her. He looked over at her often and she averted her eyes every time hoping he wouldn't notice her staring. She felt awful letting him clean up the mess she had made.


Every now and then her chest with hurt with the guilt she felt about just letting him work around the kitchen. She sat up slowly as Dante started to talk to her. The room spun slightly, but she ignored it and finally looked up over at Dante.


She locked eyes with him as he spoke, and she was sure that her expression was anything but happy. She hand't smiled in the last hour she'd been lying there. Her heart was too heavy for that right now. Guilt was pouring over her. Here was someone trying to help her, take care of her, and all she could do was cause problems for him. She didn't know if she could stay here, not if this was going to be how it was.


As she looked at him, she didn't hear him only nodded to act as though she had. Her mind was wandering on other things rather than dinner. When he talked to her, it went through her and she hardly reacted. At this point she felt like screaming and crying. It may have seemed like a stupid reaction but that was how she felt.


Then suddenly she had made her mind up about something, there was no way she could stay here. The next chance she got, she was going to leave and just remove herself from everyones life. It'd be easier for everyone that way, even if it broke her heart. She couldn't be this burden on someone, Peyton just couldn't do it.
 
Dante hummed and watched Peyton's face become still and masklike. After a moment, he sighed and left the kitchen to sit beside her. She looked more than wispy, she looked close to breaking.


"You know I'm not upset or anything, right? I don't mind. In fact, I think you're just fine," Dante assured her, sitting on the edge of the couch and staring into her face. What was she thinking? Was she alright in there? "We'll be okay now." he promised her with a tender smile. What would he do without that red hair and those big eyes? He'd be so alone without somebody who was just as unique as he was.
 
Peyton, when she looked at Dante looked THROUGH him. It wasn't like she was actually seeing him, and it she looked so sad. "I..." She started but let her voice trail off. Peyton twisted away from Dante then, and pushed herself to her feet.


"I can't do this," She said quickly, and went for the bedroom. She had brought a smaller bag with her and was now frantically shoving clothes into it. It was almost a crazy act, but there was a sanity to it as Peyton did it. Tears were falling down her cheeks now, and she continued to put as many clothes into her bag as fast as she could.


Her heart was slamming hard in her ears, blood causing her hearing to fade leaving her with tears and thoughts. Right now, all she wanted to do was get out of here, and it wasn't due to Dante. In fact, if she'd allow herself to be more selfish she'd stay here with him. But she couldn't do that to him, be this huge burden on someone like this. There was no way. If she let herself get any closer to him the only thing she'd end up doing was hurting him and herself. "I can't do this," She repeated to herself again.
 
She'd just run from him, and he was tempted to follow, but when she started throwing clothes into a bag Dante rushed after her. "Peyton, Peyton, what can't you do?" he asked, following her into the bedroom and standing beside her. What was happening to her. "Stop it Peyton, you don't get it!" he shouted, not angrily, but trying to get her attention and he grabbed her wrist in a cuff to pull her away from the bag.


"You think I want you to leave, or that you're a problem, because you're not!" he yelled. "You're the first human I've talked to in a year that isn't my boss or a customer, my first confidant, the only person in this state that knows I have another side and for once, I'd like to keep a friend around, okay?" he hissed, pulling her away from the bag now with determination. "Let's talk, please don't go," Dante roughly pleaded.
 
Peyton let Dante tear her away from her process of stuffing clothes into a bag. He was yelling at her, yet she didn't find any anger in his voice. What she heard was more like....desperation. She was breathing hard, tears falling down her cheeks. They had flushed from crying, and she looked a lot like a child scared of the unknown.


"Dante," Peyton murmured, looking up at him, "I can't stay here, all I will do is worry you with attacks and sickness..." She said keeping her eyes locked with his. As she spoke her voice shook something horrible and it was weak.


"The way you found me today wasn't even the worst of it," Peyton explained, "Sometimes I even fall on something that hurts me badly, stabs me, or cuts me," She said shaking her head, "I can't be that one thing you have to worry about constantly, I just can't be that..." Her breath was becoming raspy again, hinting that another attack wasn't far behind. She was becoming so upset, so guilt stricken that her attacks were becoming more frequent.
 
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