"Don't suppose you'd be up for a spot of tea, now would you?" Cecil asked Sasha.
"I guess." She could hardly find the words to say. She'd been alone so long. She's sat in her apartment for the last few days, not saying a word. It seemed funny now that he'd want tea. She guessed she had some. Sasha let him in, and he went right to the kettle as if he knew where everything was.
"How have you been?" He put the kettle on.
"Good." She tried to make the effort to sound so.
"I hate to tell you, but you don't look so good." His smile was quick, and he couldn't help but touch her cheek. "What have you done to yourself?"
"Nothing." She winced then.
"I don't believe you." Cecil shook his head. "How ever bad it was, I forgive you. I do. I don't want this. I don't want to see you this way."
She shook her head, no.
"Its too late," Sasha nursed her upper lip.
"Who hasn't Rhys screwed around with?" He reached for her again, but she flinched away.
"I'm not good for you," she sniffed tears then.
"You don't see me wearing a crown, now do you?" He looked at her seriously.
Sasha almost smiled. The kettle whistle started. Cecil went to make a brew for them. They sat at the little kitchen table, and he remembered how much milk to pour in her tea.
"Just let me be there for you, all right," Cecil said with a nod. "that's not asking much, now is it?"
Sasha couldn't say anything. She stirred her tea. She slightly smiled then. She supposed she could let him back in, a little. He always made the perfect brew.