L [o/i] ve is a journey

The Girl with the Fox Mask (The First Day Part 3) | Being Washed Of A Burden

When they reached to hostel, she went straight to the room, and felt a reluctance in his steps, like he tried to pull away from her: „I can try and get you your own room." Neri asked concerned, but he looked at her, anxious, even more anxious than before: „Don't worry! You are safe!" she re-assured him.

The young man needed a moment to step into the room she got for herself. The bed was large, as she liked to sleep in impossible positions, but also very comfortable. He watched how she got rid of her boots and entered the bathroom, filled the bathtub and put out a small case with just wonderful smelling things, like shampoo, soaps and other things that would help to keep one's skin in top condition, even when being caught in a large sandstorm every other day.

„I think, to redress, you should take that outfit here?" she handed him one of the bags, after looking into them. „Don't worry, I wait here. You can actually shut the door from the inside. If that makes you feel more secure? I can also leave the room, if you want to!"

He hesitated for a moment, and then just shook his head, barely noticable.

„Alright, I wait here for you. Take your time, but not too much. We still need to get food." Neri said gleefully and he went into the bathroom, still filled with hesitation.

The door fell into the lock with a quiet „clack" and she looked at it for a moment.

It must be so exhausting, she thought, going through all of that, being sold as a slave, and then I bought him and set him free. He must feel anxious, and not knowing what to do next. Or, what happens next. Isn't it the worst to not know what happens next to you?

She took some steps back through the room and sat on the bed. He kept looking so anxious, confused even, fearful and afraid. There was this notion in her that wanted to hug him, to tell him, he is going to be alright, but also: how could she do that? He was somebody very afraid, and mistrusting of people. Which, again, was understandable. She did not know about his previous life, but on how slave trades went, and what she knew about the topic, there was a good chance it was going on for longer, probably his whole life. It would be preposterous to think she could fix anything of it with a hug, or well meant words.

Well, it would be great if he would travel with her. She loved travel, but sometimes, she wanted to turn around and point out something she saw. Or some thing she remembered. If she had somebody who experienced all of it with her. Memories she shared with her fellow traveler.

Because even though she liked the silence and the feeling of being alone, lonlieness was an uncaring, unreciprocate companion in the eye of joys, pain, and exhaustion. She would really love to have somebody at her side, or behind her. Heck, even following their footsteps and watching someones unwavering back would be a feeling she yearned for.

But, if he followed me, that would require for him to be able to fight. Be it with magic or a weapon. And he doesn't look like it. Nerivie thought. Because, let's be real: your sense of direction is screwed, and you seem to attract beasts like you smell of cookies or something!

But still. But still! She had found herself yearning for somebody she could talk to, or at least know their presence and find it soothing to have company.

What was he doing so long? Did he need help?

„Is the water cold?" she asked worried. No response. Of course. He was still to weak to speak. Or, maybe too overwhelmed. Sometimes, no matter how hard you tries, you cannot speak. It's gonna wear off, hopefully.

Suddenly, there was a chump, like something fell on the floor, then a lound bang of wood hitting the floor, and then the splash of water, a lot of water.