Chapter 63- Lysander's Foul Mood:

Third Person

Lysander didn't go to school for a full week. It was rather distressing as Erin knew he only missed school if he felt he had to. He had yet to even see Castiel, let alone speak to his best friend. Castiel believed that Lysander was still upset with him so he just gave Lysander his space- he talked to Erin occasionally and it was clear to him that whatever was going with Lysander went beyond the fight.

By the end of the week, Erin had enough. Lysander was brooding around the house and it was frankly causing her to worry so much she felt that she was going to gain another ten pounds just from stress eating.

She sat in the kitchen at two in the morning on a Friday night, absently stirring a cup of tea. Lucille had woken her up, but now the baby was back to sleeping peacefully in the crib. Dark circles were forming under her eyes due to waking up at such odd hours to take care of Lucille, sometimes she didn't even fall back to sleep at all. Lysander never woke up the past week when Lucille cried so that left Erin to do it herself. It was putting a strain on her. Ryan had banned her from working at the café until she got sleep- especially since on Wednesday she had actually fainted and stayed that way until an hour after closing. Lysander didn't even notice that she came home late.

In short, the whole week was hell for her. Lysander never acknowledged her existence beyond a few words of hello. He never said I love you. There were no morning kisses, no playful touching, no hand holding, no soft whispers of love. There was nothing. He never even said hello to Lucille. He usually wore just boxers to bed, but for some reason the past week he wore a full silky pajama set (which led Erin to wear a pair of his silky boxers to bed without even so much as a bra or shirt just to see if he would notice- he didn't). Every time she tried talking to him, he shut her down. It was killing Erin to see her love this way. It wasn't him.

Erin sighed deeply as she heard footsteps. Lysander entered the kitchen. His hair was messy and unwashed. He had circles under his eyes and he smelt faintly like body odor and sweat. He didn't even say hello to Erin as he passed her by and fixed a cup of tea. As he sat down beside her, Erin finally just broke.

"Lysander," she said firmly, but he didn't even look up.

"Lysander," she repeated, but there was still no indication that he heard her. Erin could feel a bit of anger bubbling up in her.

Enough is enough. She stood up from the table and slammed her hands on the table.

"LYSANDER ADRIAN HUGHES!"

His head snapped up at her surprised. Her glare softened as he looked into her eyes. His beautiful eyes shined with such broken emotions that it just broken Erin. He was still silent and she hissed slightly as her palms started to sting. Looking down, she realized she should have paid more attention to where she slammed her hand. The spoon that she used to stir her tea with was what he left hand had hit. The metal caused a bit of a cut on her palm and the tea had spilled onto the back of her hand. She hissed and brought her hand to her chest as tears bristled in her eyes.

She looked down at the damage. The crimson blood was starting to slowly leak from the small cut on her palm and she bit her lip at how deep it looked. Seeing her injured seemed to snap Lysander from his daze. He rushed over,

"Erin! Love, are you okay?"

Erin looked at him in surprised- it was the most reaction she had gotten from him. He took her hand in his and looked down at the damage. He took some paper towels and cleaned her hand to the best of his ability.

"We have to get you to the ER. You get into the car, I'll get Lucille."

He went to go upstairs, but Erin stopped him.

"No," she said, her voice shaking.

"No?"

"No," she repeated, "I'm not going anywhere until we talk. Lysander, what happened? You… You're acting so different and you're not paying me nor Lucille any attention. You're not even taking care of yourself! Any food I give you lands in the trash and I'm sure you've lost a few pounds from not eating anything aside from the occasional piece of toast. Lysander, you have to talk to me! What is going on? It's been a week and this is the most you've talked to me!"

Her words slowly started to register in his mind. She moved them to the living room and they both sat down. His eyes were slightly glazed over as if in a daze. Erin took his hand in her right hand, careful not to use her left as it was dripping with blood. At the moment, her injury didn't matter. All that mattered was getting Lysander to talk to her.

"Lysander," Erin spoke softly, "You have to talk to me."

"A week," he said, his voice just above a whisper, "You said it's been a full week… How could I have not noticed? How could I… Love, I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."

Tears were starting to fall from his face and Erin's heart just broke. She carefully leaned Lysander down and placed his head in her lap. She stroked his hair slightly, not caring that it was tangled and greasy.

"It's okay, just tell me what's been going on."

"Love… my father passed away," Lysander finally answered, "I was already in a foul mood. Deborah had almost hit you and I was beating myself up over the fact that I didn't think the plan through that well… I… When I got home that day, Mother called. She said Father had passed away- heart attack. He couldn't take it and… If it's already been a week then the funeral is in a couple of days… Love, Erin… I'm so sorry."

He sat up and gave her a passionate kiss. The kiss sat Erin's body on fire- after a week of absolutely nothing, this single action managed to bring together every single missed kiss and missed touch. They broke apart for air. Lysander took in her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. He was not the only one suffering, it seemed.

"Love," he said, his voice low, "I… I was selfish and I am very sorry. Lucille… I will take care of for the next week and give you a break. Love, I am so sorry."

He kissed her again. The kiss slowly got more passionate and Lysander's hand dipped down to rub her thigh. He kissed at her neck.

"I've missed you," Erin gasped.

"I've missed you as well," Lysander said, his voice husky, "…Just how long have you been topless and in my boxers?"

"The whole week. Every night."

He gently pushed her down on the couch. He glanced briefly at her hand- the cut didn't seem nearly as bad now as the bleeding seemed to have stopped. It was good. He hovered over her as he kissed her.

"How could I have missed that? It seems I have a lot to make up for…"