rescue my heart

Lawrence had tried to forget about Penny. Store her away in that part of his brain he never accessed, but he couldn’t shake her off, even though he tried so furiously to do so. The task Winter had set him hung over him, weighing him down. She was out there somewhere, waiting to be saved by him, but he didn’t know how. All Winter had told him that he needed to remember Penny, but he did and yet nothing happened.

Once Penny’s name was revealed the memories came trickling in, slowly but steady. The first thing he remembered was her stealing his Goddamn ring and blaming him for it, but then he remembered how they brushed it aside, occasionally laughing about it, both of them knowing she had it stored away somewhere. He grew accustomed to living as a night creature, in fact he started to enjoy it because it gave him the chance to see Penny. Their little coffee meets up flooded in next, then the nights they spent together in bed after meeting for coffee. They’d slipped into a routine, but neither of them acknowledge that. They just let it happen. Lawrence would meet Penny in the coffee shop around midnight, they would chat then head back to her apartment. As soon as the door closed he would slip his arms around her waist, picking her up and pinning her against the wall. Whatever they had going on was passionate and addictive. Sometimes he’d lie in her bed, her legs dangled over his with his hand lying on her bare back and he’d wish he could stay for a little longer, but the sun was about to make an appearance.

Hannya had slipped into Penny’s place, wiping away Lawrence’s emotions in the process, leaving behind nothing but an empty numb shell. At first he’d say she’d done him a favour, but he swiftly remembered how boring it was to lack emotions. Nothing brought him joy. Every day was the same. He was just existing at this point, but the boredom wasn’t enough to have him flip the switch. Why the fuck would he want to feel guilty after draining a human?

Perhaps Penny needed more people to remember her. The only people he thought might remember her was the staff at the museum, her name was still on her office door afterall. Lawrence spotted a security guard as soon as he entered the museum. “Hey buddy.” He rushed over towards the man, “I need your help… well… someone else does. Anyway, I need you to remember a woman called Penny Bartlett. She works here, on the fourth floor. She’s a curator.” Whatever the fuck that meant. She had explained it to him a few times, but it sounded like she just played with fossils. “There’s no employee here by the name Penny Bartlett. Sorry.” Lawrence sighed heavily. Fuck, why could this man just remember Penny so Lawrence could go back to living his life? “There is. She’s got blonde hair, five eight, always looks unhappy… She has hazel eyes, quite dazzling sometimes. A lovely smile too, in those rare moments she decides to smile.” Without realising it there was a small smile on his own face as he thought about Penny’s lips curving into a sharp smile whenever he made a poor joke, followed by her laugh. “She wants you to think she’s a cold bitch, but she’s not. Underneath it all she’s warm and endearing… she’s remarkable and… well she’s pretty fucking special so I’m struggling believe that you can’t remember her.” He jabbed his finger into the security guard’s left shoulder, knocking him back a few steps. “She’s someone who deserves to be remembered!” There it was. The emotion was flickering deep below the surface. Lawrence inhaled, holding his breath as if it was holding in the emotions. He refused to let the door open and the feelings faded away.

The front door of the museum flew open, causing Lawrence and the security guard to turn their heads. Penny. She was there, in the flesh. He pressed his lips together tightly, a vacant look on his face as his eyes locked with hers. He turned to the security guard, “Good job buddy. You remembered her.” He reached over, giving the man a light pat on the back.


PENNY BARTLETT