Though these wounds have seen no wars

 

She knew she'd let him down the moment he saw her. Of course, she wasn't sure what Frankie might be expecting. It had been ages, in fact since they'd seen each other.

Naturally, he was prim and proper, something out of a Jane Austen novel, she suspected. Although, they'd been childhood friends. Yet not nearly long enough.

Her name was Margret but no one called her that. She was Pixie. Always had been. Well, ever since her claim to fame in the NUTCRACKER. Oh, she'd been a budding adolescent at the time, but those days were gone.

Pixie reached for a cigarette, but Frankie crushed it before it ever touched her lips.

"Why are you here?" His wince made it seem as if he didn't need any problems.

"You said I could come," Pixie swallowed her pride. She didn't want to be here, but there was no place to go. She'd road the bus from up north for days. She'd seen wildfires and the like. It was as if the world was a ticking time bomb these days, and her aging parents didn't want a thing to do with her these days.

He sighed. Then reached to tap in the code to his place. Oh, it was all so sophisticated and all she had to do these days was nibble her fingernails to keep them ground to the quick. Rather an old fashion habit, if she might say so, but she couldn't quit. 

Frankie let her into the highrise condo.

"How you been?" She was her cheerful fake self. "You look sharp, my friend." She gave him a pat on the back. Perhaps, he needed a back rub. At this point, Pix was up for anything. It wasn't that she was in rags, but then again she was the best at thrifting.

"You really don't remember how angry you were when I spoke to you last," Frankie was in fact disgruntled.

"Was I?" She forgot sometimes. Must have been one of those days that she was starving but still had some minutes on her phone.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Canada?" He looked at her blankly.

"Technically, I am an American citizen." She smiled. "I was born in Minnesota." Not that she liked it there. Oh, she could hope things were better here. People were crazy back there, in her eyes. There was far too much restlessness in the world.

"Whatever." He wasn't being sweet, but when had he ever. He was cold while training in ballet. Why would he be different now?

"Well, I hate to trouble you-"

"I'll show you to the guestroom." He motioned for her to follow. All she had was her little backpack.

They trodded down the white carpet as if no one had ever come this way. Pixie thought she might be dreaming. When he opened the door to the guestroom, it smelled horribly new. Of course, no one had ever been in this diamond of a room.

"You're my first guest," he said. "Don't destroy it."