Duskwood - Who are you?

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓸

Ruby POV

My heart raced as I locked eyes with the man across me, preparing for what I was about to tell him. Jake. We sat across from each other in bed, and I looked everywhere but Jake. I was sitting cross-legged, and he leaned against the wall with his legs outstretched. His face was open and unbiased. We had only just found each other. I didn't want to lose him right away.

"Jake," I started. "I fear that," my voice broke.

He gave me a worried smile as he pulled away from the wall and came closer to take my hands in his.

I knew I could trust him, but I still feared that he would leave me or get angry with me—or both. I was terrified. Maybe I shouldn't stay here in the first place. Ever since I lived on the streets, I didn't know the feeling of home anymore. The feeling of security and safety was unknown to me. And as soon as I stayed at someone's house for a long time, I felt like I was imposing myself on the person.

In a flash, I jumped off the bed and ran to his apartment door. I heard Jake hiss in pain behind me as he tried to get up. My heart ached at the thought that I really wanted to leave him alone in this state right now.

Was I stupid or what?

Probably.

As I turned to go back to Jake and apologize, I ran into his big muscular chest. He had already caught up with me, and his eyes showed concern. Immediately I lost myself in his sea-blue eyes and could stay there forever. But his rapid breathing brought me back to reality. I just wanted to slap myself in the face for my actions.

"Ruby, what was that?" he asked breathlessly, pain reflected on his face.

I sighed. "I'm scared of losing you 'cause that's what everyone has done once I've opened up."

"I won't leave you."

"But-" he interrupted me, "I promise."

"Okay," I breathed.

We went into his living room and, this time sat on his sofa. The living room was barely furnished. Well, when you're on the run, you have better things to do than set up your apartment. All his rooms consisted of the most necessary. The living room consisted of a small sofa that already looked a bit worn. A wooden rectangular coffee table with broken corners and stains. Behind it stands a small TV. The rest of the room was empty and just looked desolate.

This time, he put his arm around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder before finally telling him everything. He said nothing and rubbed my shoulder with his thumb to calm me down.

"Jake, I-" my voice cracked. He gently kissed my forehead, after which I closed my eyes and finally started to speak. "Jake, I don't have a home. I am homeless and have lived on the streets for years."

"But why?" he asked. "Judging by your clothes, you would think you are rather wealthy."

"My family and I used to be wealthy. But things happened that I don't want to talk about just yet, and we lost everything. It was like lightning that struck our lives. We had to leave everything behind, split up, and have been on the run ever since."

"How long have you been on the run?"

"Around six years."

His grip tightened on me, and he started to tremble slightly. "Have you been outside alone for six years, even at night?"

I could hear his concern in his voice. He couldn't imagine me walking around the street alone at night. It was far from nice, but I didn't tell him that. "Depending on how far away I was from my pursuers, I slept in a motel here and there. A night at the motel was like a mini vacation," I stated, giggling.