Memos: Hey, this is...either my first or one of my first stories on here so please shoot your mouth off about it. Seriously, I wanna know what you all think about it, even if it's bad. Be specific, please. Thank you!

Chelsea/ ImaginaryGirlChild


Would You Like Some Sugar With That Wound?

Chapter One: Irrational?

For some inexplicable reason she shook with hatred.

Everything about that boy pissed her off.

Her muscles tensed in her arms.

Her fingers were rolled into fists.

And she lost it.

The cup of steaming mocha-whatever went sailing through the air and landed square on his right shoulder.

The foam cup crushed instantly causing the almost boiling liquid to seep into his jacket.

"Take your fucking, piss-weak, pansy-ass coffee and get the fuck away from me." She hissed, yanking off her apron and shoving it against the tall male. Surprised he stumbled back a little and watched the curly haired brunette slam the glass door open, the bell at the top oblivious to the fight still happily gave its greeting. He distinctly heard her mumble: 'goddamn fucking bell' as she left.

Everyone in the coffee shop watched the young man take off his jacket, slowly, and waved off the manager who was repeatedly telling him that the shop would take his jacket to the dry-cleaners down the street, free of charge.

"It's alright, no really I'm fine-" he started calmly only to get cut off by the manager.

"I'm really sorry, sir, she's usually really good with customers, I've never seen her fly off the handle like that. Why don't you let me take your jacket? My friend is a dry-cleaner; obviously you wouldn't have to pay, I'm really sorry, sir." The manager repeated his mantra, basically falling over himself to help the customer.

"Seriously, uhm," the tall male leaned forward a little and read the manager's name tag, "Edward, it's quite alright, don't worry about it" he said coolly a slight hint of an accent seeping through. He looked towards the window and back at Edward, "Does she live around here?"

"I'm sure she does, I don't know the address off the top of my head, I can go look for it right now if you'd like." Edward rambled, already starting to walk towards his office.

"No, it was just a simple question, don't worry about it. This is for my coffee," he said, placing a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

"Oh no, sir," Edward started, "Sir please, the least we could do is take your coat to get washed, I cannot allow you to pay for your spoiled drink."

"I don't want you to fire the girl, alright?" he said quietly, pushing the money closer towards Edward, "So just take this and promise me that you won't fire her." He demanded, his voice staying cool and calm.

"I don't feel comfortable with taking a bribe sir," Edward started causing the mysterious male to lean forward and stick it in Edward's front shirt pocket.

"Just don't fire her." He mumbled before turning on his heel and walking out the door, leaving Edward in a daze.

Slowly Ameya opened the door to her apartment building, a few blocks away from the aforementioned coffee shop. Inside she found her long-term boyfriend on the couch watching her daughter play on the floor in front of him. At the sound of the door clicking open Griffin sat up and watched the pretty brunette enter the small apartment.

"Mommy!" the child yelled, her tiny legs carrying her as fast as she could to Ameya, who scooped her child up quickly and kissed the top of her head.

"Hey 'Meya," Griffin said, enveloping her in a hug, "Why're you home so early?" he asked as Ameya set the child back on her feet and watched her toddle over towards her toys.

"Are you on call tonight?" she asked, swiftly changing the subject and walking into the tiny kitchen.

"Kind of, I'm on call, on call." He answered following her.

"What do you mean?" she inquired, pulling a Tupperware bowl out of the fridge.

"The only way they'll call me is if the intern who's on call needs help. So now, why're you home so early?" Griffin asked, leaning back on the counter and watched Ameya mash the already mashed potatoes in a bowl.

"I don't wanna talk about it right now." She said coldly placing the mush inside the microwave and starting it.

"What happened, Meya?" he asked quietly, lifting himself up and dropping onto the counter.

"I pretty much quit and/or got fired. Either way I'm going to need a job." She mumbled pulling the bowl out of the microwave and slathering the potatoes with ranch salad dressing.

"Honey, that's not really very healthy for you-" Griffin started before getting cut off.

"I know you're a doctor and telling people what to do is your thing, but right now, I don't give a shit about what's healthy." She snapped, taking a big bite out of the off white mixture.

"Why'd you quit?" he asked, his blue eyes on her.

"'Causth," she replied, mouth full of food.

"Mommy, wook, itsth a badder-ina!" the little girl shrieked happily shoving a Barbie doll into Ameya's kneecap.

"I see, sweetie, she's beautiful." Ameya said, somewhat distractedly, though the child didn't know the difference. Happy with her mother's answer, Kaia tried to dance back into the living room with her doll.

"'Cause why?" Griffin asked, keeping her on task.

"Because, I had a problem with a customer. I threw his drink at him and thus ended my career as a coffee barista." She mumbled, running her fingers threw her brown hair.

"Are you serious? You threw a drink at a customer? Isn't that rule number one? Thou shalt not throw beverages at paying customers?" Griffin half joked.

"I told you I did not want to talk about it." Ameya hissed dumping the empty bowl in the sink and sauntering into the living room.

"Baby, please tell me you're not serious, okay? You didn't actually do something that irrational, did you?" Griffin whined, waiting for Ameya to jump up and tell him what a big joke it was.

"Has Kai had lunch yet?" she asked, receiving an annoyed grunt. "Yes? No?"

"Yes, she has, I was actually getting ready to put her down for a nap." Griffin answered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Alright, Kaia-baby, time for a nap," Ameya cooed, picking up the giggling baby girl. Being the daughter of the ever violent and easily ill-tempered Ameya, Kaia was surprisingly meek and mild mannered. She rarely cried, even when she got sick or hungry, and seemed to learn at a quicker pace. At the age of two, she was easily stringing along complete sentences with little problems and comprehending almost everything that anyone said.

Griffin watched as Ameya lovingly picked up her small daughter, place her in her crib, kiss the top of her black curled head, and shut off the light. He'd seen her do that millions of times, but for some reason the sudden contrast of her harsh fa├žade to sensitive mother surprised him every time.

"What're you looking at?" she snapped, falling onto the couch.

"Nothing, you're just cute, is all." Griffin answered giving her a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and watch some horrible court show with me." She demanded, curling up so he could fit on the couch with her. It seemed right, her head on his chest, his arms around her waist, it was nice. And then his beeper went off.

"I'm so sorry Meya, I have to run down to the hospital, I'll try to be right back, alright?" he asked, even though he was halfway out the front door. She sighed and waved her hand, as if shooing him off. After two and a half years, she was used to it.

It was actually at the hospital where they met. He was an intern and she was having a baby. A few days later he showed up on her doorstep, wanting to see if she needed help, and from then on, he just kept coming back. It was blissfully unconventional for Ameya, 'cause that was how she liked things.

Griffin didn't come back an hour later; in fact he was gone for the rest of the night, though he called every couple of hours to assure her that he'd be home later. Later ended up being a little past midnight and Ameya had fallen asleep on the couch.