little bird // r.keene

xxxii. a couple of strays.

The Bookshelf was closed and the lights were off, all except for Wren's beside lamp and her fairy lights. Her room was warm and kind to her. Her place of comfort and support.

She couldn't stop thinking about the party that night and it was driving her nuts so, with a short brief sigh, she reached out for her phone and began to play some music. It was soothing to her ears as she swung her legs off her bed and pressed them to the wooden floor. She couldn't help but begin to sway as she stretched her arms over her head. Leaning over, she took a long swig of the mug of tea by her beside before sitting it down gently.

Wren pushed herself to her feet and she simply couldn't help it. She began to dance.

Let them have their party because she was ready to have hers. She knew her feelings would pass but they were heavy to carry so until then she would bask in the moment and pretend she was somewhere else.

Wren pictured a small house in the middle of nowhere, probably in late spring when the nights grew short and the warm summer evenings were on their way, stretching out in front of her, so close she could touch them. She remembered a promise she had once made to Rue when they were too young to know how to ride a bike or tie their shoe laces. That the pair of them would live far away all by themselves, barefoot with wild hair, talking to the moon rather than being just what others wanted of them.

They would be themselves in their own place but that dream was never coming. Not anymore. So Wren's place was now a small room above a bookshop with fairy lights, books, postcards, plants and music. Oh so much music. She wondered if she might disappear into it, sink into the rhythm, dissolve into the air and never return. Maybe, just maybe if that meant seeing Rue again.

But until she figured out how, she just danced.

Police lights blared through the windows, bathing Moon's living room in alternative blue and red light. Sam stood swaying in the kitchen as everyone scattered around her, blurring past her vision. Suddenly, Robby found her, she ran up to her, grabbing her shoulders.

"There you are. I've been looking for you. We gotta go." He ushered her, his eyes wide and hair in his face.
Sam looked up at him, dazed, "I'm so sorry Robby."
"It's okay," he told her, "we've just gotta get you home."

Sam shook her head, knowing what would unfold if she returned home as drunk as she was. Sam regretted not listening to Robby earlier as her head continued to swim, "No. My parents are gonna freak out if they see me like this." Sam slurred and took a step forward to lean on her boyfriend.

Robby gripped her arm, slinging one over his shoulder as they hurried out of the house, Sam almost stumbling over her feet.
Robby's thoughts were rapid. He couldn't go to the LaRusso's, so where could they go? He needed some we here to lie low until Sam sobered up, probably overnight.

Only one place came to mind.

Because of her music, Wren didn't hear the knock on the front door below. She didn't hear whoever knocked knock for the second time either... She did however, though she almost missed it, heard whoever it was, knock the third time.

She sighed and turned her music down, fading back into reality as she threw on a knitted jumper and opened her window.

"Who is it?" She yelled out of it, it was too dark to spot whoever it was since they didn't reach the light of the street lamp. Wren tried to squint her eyes to make out the figure in the dark.

"Wren, it's me! Please open the door." She heard Robby call out and her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, she hadn't even noticed them tense in the first place.

"Sorry!" She called out into the dark night of the street below, "No can do-" Wren told him but Robby cut her off:
"Wren, please, I need help."

And just like that, Wren was gone from the window, leaving it wide open as she slung her bedroom door open and hurried down the stairs to the shop floor. Thoughtlessly, she grabbed the keys from a hook under the desk and pattered over to the door, fumbling for the key.

Robby sounded desperate, he sounded hurt. He sounded-

Wren opened the door and the warm light of The Bookshelf illuminated the two figures in her doorway.

Robby and Sam.

"You've got to be kidding me." Wren uttered breathlessly, "Sorry, I'm taking in any strays tonight." Wren told them, her voice was slick lick oil as she kept her eyes fixed on the two people in front of her when she moved to shut the door.

"Wren, please, we have nowhere to go." Robby pleaded, he looked over at Sam, who, from where Wren was standing, looked like she could barely keep her eyes open, "She's really drunk, please, we won't cause any trouble."

Wren returned to her room, shutting the door shut with her foot behind her, with an aspirin in hand and a glass of water.
Sam was sprawled where Wren and Robby had put her on Wren's bed, she looked as if she was sound asleep.

"Here." She handed the pills to Robby, the water too, "For her head tomorrow." Robby held out his hand.
"Thanks." He told her, gently, as to not wake Sam.

"No. Problem." Wren over pronounced, moving to her kitchen space and grabbing a bucket, placing it beside her bed. Robby watched her as Wren trailed over to a chair in the corner of the room. "How much did she have?" Wren found herself asking, resting either elbow on the arms of the chair and intertwining her fingers over her stomach, looking over at Robby who sat on the side of her bed, right next to Sam.

"I'm not sure... Too much." Was his reply and Wren scoffed.
"What? You didn't follow her around like a puppy all night counting?" Wren snarked, pushing her teeth together and making a tsk sound repetitively.

"Wren, don't do that..." He said flatly.
"What? I think it's a perfectly valid question, Keene..." She retorted to which he shook his head gently, looking down at his lap. Robby leaned down and pressed his palms to his eyes, rubbing them gently.

Wren studied him from across the room as he looked back up again and suddenly he was something else. Not a boy, not her friend but some thing else. Blank-eyed. Tired.

"Why'd you bring her here?" Robby's attention was drawn back to Wren, she had been right, he was tired, too tired to fight or argue, apologise or explain.

"I didn't know where else to go. Sam's parents wouldn't forgive her. I wasn't going to go to my dad's. I just- the police were there... And I- Wren, I panicked. I just wanted to get Sam somewhere safe." His voice was calm but drained, Wren's rage flickered.

Robby was just trying to protect Sam.

"Robby," Wren's voice was soothing and as smooth as fur to him, he met her eyes, "Just sleep. We'll figure it out tomorrow." And Robby didn't fight it, he slid off the bed and sat on the floor, resting his head back on the mattress and let his eyes sink closed. He hadn't realised how heavy they were but Wren's order was welcomed by him and he did as he was told. He slept.