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A/N: Looking back at this story makes me vomit, ugh, terrible English and terrible story overall, read at your own risk :)) *A Chicago fire fanfiction* Spoilers, duh* *Dawsey* *PeterMillsstory* ~ "Jennie" I say. She doesn't move. She has the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. She sink to her knees at the door, not caring for the cold dirty floor that's dirting her jeans. She sob into her hands and the tears drip between her fingers. I walk toward her and sit down, the floor is cold and so is she. I don't like when she's sad, Jennie is such a happy person and it always spread to others. "I should have gone there" She say. "It's my fault, I could have been there for him" She continue. I grab her hand, it's freezing. It could be of the cold wine she just drank, or the cold floor. But I think her body normally shut down when she get sad. At least mine does. "We both know that isn't true" I say. She squeeze my hand. She turn over to face me, I belive she's about to kiss me but instead she fall into my arms. The hug is a simple enough gesture - affection, perhaps the fragile beginnings of love. The arms that hold her is soft, yet strong. The feel of her body so close to his sooth me more than I had expected. But within seconds she pull away, "I'm sorry, this is all on me" She say. ~ Loving can hurt | "A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead" -Graham Greene
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