The Ineffable Ruth Rhodes

23 very, very wrong

vincent

Vincent couldn't stop staring at Ruth the whole dinner, beginning to end.

He was surprised she didn't seem to notice— but was happy, because that way he could keep staring. She was radiant.

Maybe once he thought she was shy, or maybe she just didn't want to let people in because she didn't think she deserved to have them around her. He remembered a time when she wouldn't even smile because she thought she didn't deserve happiness. He realized she'd changed a lot since then.

When she sat there with his mother, and he saw his mother's eyes shining the way they used to shine, and he thought maybe he didn't know her like he thought he did. He just sat there, watching them interact, and he felt this sense of pride that he brought her to his mother.

"Thank you so much for the delicious meal, Ms. Alderage," Ruth said as she stood and began gathering plates.

Vincent's mother watched in mortification, looking at Vincent frantically to do something.

"Wait!" he stood and stopped her arm. "Don't bother yourself with it."

Ruth blinked between them and laughed, continuing. "In my culture, this is how it's done. Please— I'd feel horrible if I left without helping with anything."

Vincent was sure that if she didn't love Ruth as much as she could, she sure did now. "Well, alright. Vincent, please lend her a hand."

Vincent took most of the plates, leading Ruth to the kitchen.

"I'll wash them. Just wait for me," he said with a small smile. She opened her mouth to protest when he gave her a look. "Please."

"Fine," she said as she stationed herself on the counter.

He felt her watching him wash the dishes in the comfortable silence, before she spoke.

"Thanks for inviting me today," she said finally, swinging her legs back and forth with a smile.

"Told you they didn't bite."

"I know. It was just... nerve wracking. To meet your family."

"Why?" he stopped and watched her eyes, which she suddenly couldn't meet.

"If I asked you to meet my parents, you'd be scared too."

Not the answer I wanted. "You're right." What answer did I want?

They sat in silence until he was finished, and Vincent thought some of his favorite moments with her were when they were just enjoying each others' company.

"Now that we're done..." he trailed off, and she regarded him with confused eyes.

Vincet stalked up to her, trying not to smile, but his lips moved of their own accord as he stationed both his hands on the counter beside her hips. He heard her suck in a breath. It drove him insane.

He could see every detail of her face— the soft bumps on her skin, the small, smooth mole right in the middle of her lip, the way her eyelashes were unruly and wild, and the depths of her dark and warm eyes. He wanted to kiss every inch of her face. He wanted to hold her every insecurity in his hands and swallow it whole.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered.

"Yes," she said, almost breathed.

He leaned in to her, wanting to hold her, and it was taking every fiber of his being to stop from doing it.

"Ruth," he said, and loved the way she shut her eyes and sucked in a breath, "Ruth. You're so beautiful."

And he pressed his lips to hers.

He didn't think he'd ever kissed such soft lips before Ruth's— it was like the air was filled with carisoprodol with the way he felt like he was going to pass out from simply the way she was touching his arm. Every stroke on his bicep made him feel like it was set on fire, and when she ran a hand through his hair he thought he might've died and went to Heaven. Did she know she was even touching him? Did she know she sighed softly every time he kissed her? It was driving him out of his mind. She was driving him insane.

"Uh.. erm... Vincent?"

Ruth pulled back, jumping off the counter, eyes wide, but Vincent's eyes were trained on her lips and he creased his brows. Because kissing her never felt like that, and he wanted to do it again.

"Vincent." Someone hit his arm.

He snapped out of his haze, eyes landing on his mother who was trying not to smile with a glint in her eyes.

"Thank you for the help, and it was incredible to formally meet you, Ruth." She opened her arms, and Ruth met her hug with ease. Vincent liked the image.

"Likewise. Your home is beautiful, and the food was delicious."

They exchanged words of admiration, and his mother turned to him expectantly.

"Ruth," he said to her, catching her drift. Watching the way her eyes shone when he called her name, he wanted to say it again and again. He wanted to tattoo her name on his brain, or arrange the stars in the sky so it'd spell Ruth. "Come on. I'll drop you off at home."

Just before he followed her in tow, his mother pulled him back quickly. "Ale's wedding," she whispered hastily, "Invite her."

He narrowed his eyes at his mother who sent him a wink before strolling back to the dining area, humming mindlessly.

The drive was mostly silent, Ruth drawing shapes on her thigh as she hummed to the soft music in the car.

"Ruth?"

"Hmm?"

"My sister is getting married soon... and I was wondering if you wanted to go as a plus one...?" he asked dubiously. He snuck a quick glance at her, not knowing why he felt nervous.

"That's amazing Vincent," Ruth exclaimed excitedly, eyes catching on the street lights as they passed on the dimly illuminated road. "I'd love to, but... when is it?"

It didn't take him long to realize she was worried they'd be each other's pasts by then. He hummed. "Next month."

"I'll be there."

He dropped her at home, sitting in her driveway for a while after, just thinking.

When Vincent had observed the way his mother was looking at Ruth, he wondered if that's how he looked when he stared at her too, with so much admiration and love already. Ruth was so convinced she brought sadness to those around her, yet every person that met her loved her instantly. She carried herself with this bubble of sadness, not letting anyone get close because she was scared, however anyone who met her thought of her as the opposite.

And that was when it hit Vincent.

All this time, he'd been telling himself that Ruth Rhodes was plain— she wasn't someone you would fall in love with. After all, she drew shapes on surfaces mindlessly, and she came late to school because she wanted to take pictures of the sky— Who does that? Vincent thought. She had this mole right on her lip and one right under it, and she had one dimple on her right cheek. He didn't know why every time he looked at her, he'd count her every imperfection. He knew them all by heart. She always tied her hair back and she looked way younger than she was. She laughed with her mouth wide open and her head thrown back, like she laughed with her whole soul and body, he wanted to tell her she'd catch flies if she didn't stop doing that. Her expressions were so obvious and expressive, he could see right through her, when she was confused her brows would scrunch together and her lips would turn down, and when she was thinking she would look to the sky because oh, how she found peace in the sky. And she always wore baggy clothes that she had to keep adjusting he just wanted to walk up to her and adjust them himself.

Ruth Rhodes was odd. Oh, how she was odd. Everything about her screamed imperfection and oddity.

He thought she wasn't someone you'd fall in love with.

And he was starting to realize that he was very, very wrong.