•Running Forever•

Chapter 8. Eighth Step.

I have no excuses for why I haven't updated in so long. This year I've just....lost the will to write. I've lost track of my stories, and left old ideas in the dust. But I hope you guys can still continue to read and enjoy my attempt at a story. This chapter is basically a filler, catching up and what I've lost. But I hope new chapters can be up soon, better and more fun than before. But please comment and vote, or else I lose all motivation. Thanks a ton guys, good luck with back to school!

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I don't know how much time had passed since then. It didn't matter. 

Time was irrivalent. Me and Char could have spent forever on that couch, just sitting. The silence felt endless. Stuffing my face with pancakes earlier had given me an excuse not to talk. 

But now sitting here...I was drawing a blank. I should have left right after I finished the second helping of Charcakes. But I had no clue where to go, and I have a feeling he wouldn't have let me leave anyway. 

So we ended up on the couch.  

I stared at my feet, my legs pulled up to my chest. 

Char had turned the television on. The sound of cartoons droning helped make the quiet more bearable. I could tell Char was uneasy, he sat stiffly on the other side of the couch, his empty stare pointed in the direction of the t.v. 

Slider whined from behind the couch. The sound snapped Char out of his trance. 

"Do you like Tom and Jerry?" He asked, managing a little smile as he looked at me for an answer. 

I avoided his eyes by glancing at the screen. 

The retro cartoon brought back memories of my childhood, waking up early on Saturdays to eat chocolate cereal and watch Looney Toons.

Those had been fun times. They seemed so far away now. 

"Yeah. I used to watch them all the time." I muttered, my voice sounded distant to me. 

Now it seemed pointless. The cat was huge compared to the mouse. Being bigger meant he had more power, why couldn't he just catch the damn mouse? 

Because the mouse was smart. Why couldn't I be like him? My father always managed to catch me, no matter what I did. 

"Harley..." Char began, the sound of the television got quieter as he turned the volume down. After taking an audiable breath he turned to face me, pinning me with those brown eyes. It was weird seeing a serious expression on his face. Only a little while ago we had been laughing, playing.

Reality had set in again, and it terrified both of us. 

Please don't call me that. I wanted to say, He had given me that name. Everytime it was spoken, unbidden thoughts of Him arose. 

But my throat felt swollen. 

Char continued to speak, 

"Did you run away from home?" There was so much hesitation in his voice, as if he was worried his words would hurt me. 

Words couldn't hurt me.

They were nothing compared to the pain I felt when He had given me the bruises on my stomach. 

I nodded. 

Char winced. 

"So, he's been following you..?" 

I nodded again, my body moving on it's own, robotically. 

He shifted on the couch, making the leather groan. 

"Do you have a place to stay?" 

I could tell he already knew the answer. We had first met when I was trying to get away with a stolen hot dog. People with places to stay don't typically steal food from street vendors do they? 

Even so, I shook my head. 

"Well...ah..." Char scratched the back of his head. His eyes narrowed; he was thinking really hard about something. 

The sound of nails tic-tacing on the floor meant Slider was making his way over. Char glanced down at him before smiling and picking the little white dog up. He placed him on the couch, petting his back. 

Char smiled at me, "You know I found Slider on the streets." The little puppy left his master's hands to pad over and sniff at my feet. 

 I couldn't resist reaching down to run my hands through is fur.  "Hm?" The small noise really wasn't meant to be anything, maybe it was just a way of urging him to tell me the story. 

And he did. 

"It was the night  after I had gotten this apartment. Ha, I wasn't used to being alone and couldn't sleep. I went on a walk, and strayed a few blocks away in the direction of my old house. I didn't even realize I was doing it, sub-conciously I guess I was homesick. Heh."

Char paused to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He looked down at Slider, his smile turned so sugary sweet it made my head spin. 

"I found this little guy curled up in an alleyway. It had rained earlier that day, so he was soaked to the bone. I couldn't help but take him home, and dry him off. Feed him." 

A cold chill raced down my back. Slider's story sounded spookily similar to mine, and suddenly I knew where it was headed. 

"I had never had a dog of my own: dad's allergic. I knew I couldn't just leave him, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. I needed company here anyway, so he ended up staying." Char beamed down at the dog, the smile was so blinding I had to wince. 

Slider snuffled, leaving my side to pounce on Char, who grabbed him with open arms. 

After laughing he finally looked at me, "I guess what I mean to say is. ..you can stay here if you want. You can even have my bedroom, I don't mind sleeping on the couch. Or...if you're not comfortable...I bet my family would be happy to have you. You can stay in my old room there. Whatever you want Harley." 

I pulled my legs even closer, one of my hand's snaked up into my hair, grabbing and tugging at the roots of my tangled black hair. 

Words came spilling out of me, 

"How can you even ask me something like that? You barely know me. I- I'm not a dog. I can't give you anything, I won't make you happy. I'll just be a nuisance, and a pain. I have no money, I have nothing. I am nothing. I- I don't even..." 

Char put a hand on my head, cutting my words off. I shuddered, looking up at him. He smiled sincerely at me, his head tilting just a little to the side. His brown forelocks fell over his eyes.

I quivered, tears sprang up in my eyes. 

"He'll find me." 

With a shake of his head Char pulled me against him.

"No, you're safe here. Don't worry about a thing." 

Here I was again, curled up into a little ball in his arms. My fear vanished at the sound of his steady heartbeat in his chest, the smell of pancakes clung to his clothes. 

Maybe...this would be a good place to call home.