Unworthy Of Love (BXB)

38. Trust

When I return to the kitchen, Raven is still sitting by the table, wrapped cozily in the quilt he brought from the room, drinking coffee and eating tuna straight from the can. In front of him lies a two weeks old newspaper he found on the counter, and he turns the pages, holding his fork between two fingers like a cigarette. As I stop in the doorway, he raises his eyes and squints at me. In the morning light he looks better than he did yesterday, although still painfully pale and thin.

"I'm going to work," I say. "I've missed too many shifts."

He shrugs. "Okay. Have fun."

"I'm locking you in."

He blinks. "Don't you have a spare key?"

"I do, but I can't give it to you."

He puts the newspaper aside and raises his eyebrows in a mock shock.

"So, I'm still imprisoned," he says, getting up. "Just in a more comfortable cell."

"You know I can't --"

He walks over to me. "Can't trust me? I guess so."

"You've ran away before."

"I can still do it if I choose to." He nods at the window.

"It's fifth floor."

"I could try to get to the roof and leave through the emergency exit."

I frown, trying to figure out if that's a joke or an actual threat. "Would you do that?"

He shrugs, examining me, then moves closer. His cool fingers run from one side of my lips to the other. I watch, mesmerized, as he rises on his toes, his face getting closer to mine.

"No." I catch him by the shoulders. "Don't."

"Don't you want to kiss me?" A corner of his mouth goes up in a wry smile.

"Not right now. Not like this."

He shrugs. "If you want me to stay, you better give me a reason to."

I shake my head. "That's not right. I can't take advantage of you when you're so weak and...lost."

He chuckles softly and moves away. "Fine. Lack of trust, continuous force imprisonment and no kisses it is."

I roll my eyes. "You know I have no choice. Don't make a scene."

He returns to his place by the table, deliberately avoiding looking at me, and picks his newspaper and his cup again. I stand there for a while, watching him sip his coffee and ignore me. A part of me wants to growl in anger at such treatment after everything I've done for him; another part feels mildly amused and nostalgic at seeing the good old annoying Raven make a comeback.

I turn around and head to the door. I open it and pause again on the staircase landing, listening. There's only a slight clanging sound the cup makes when put on the table and the ruffling of the newspaper's pages.

Of course, I'm going to lock him up. He may have begun to open up a little, but so it had seemed before he ran away three years ago.

Still, I hesitate. What if there's a fire while I'm away, of if he needs something? What if he feels sick and can't even call for help? There's no phones in the apartment apart from my cellphone which I'm taking with me.

Moreover, this just doesn't feel right. I can't babysit him for the rest of my life. I remember how Catherine used to say that a bit of trust can go a long way.

I turn around and return to the kitchen.

He looks up from the newspaper, a real surprise in his eyes now. I reach into my pocket and produce the extra key, smash it on the table and meet his questioning gaze.

"There you go," I say. "When I come back, you better still be here."