How to Unkill Yourself [ruby da cherry]

Cranberry Juice

     Ruby opened his front door for me as I insisted I carried my luggage. I stepped inside and put my stuff aside on the floor near the doorframe. His house was fairly simple, and as it turns out, very far from the address Douchebag had sent me. The walls were painted unusual colors, and the living room looked lived-in, but not messy.

     "Whatchu think?" Ruby asked. I looked over at him as he took my bags in his hands. "I know it looks fucked right now, but that's how I get sometimes."

     "No, I don't think it's fucked," I protested. He motioned for me to follow him.

     "Y'ain't seen the rest of the place yet," he said with a chuckle. I followed him up the stairs as he explained which rooms were which. "This's your room," he stopped by a door just down the hall from his room. I opened it and flipped the light on.

     It was simple, with a full bed, dresser, mirror, and nightstand. The overhead light was bright, but there was a lamp on the nightstand that wasn't on. There was what looked like a narrow separation around five feet from the bed where a closet probably used to be. Nothing filled the space except for two windows spaced fairly far apart on the back wall.

     "Maybe you could put your art stuff in that area over there," he said awkwardly. I spun around to face him.

     "Really?" I asked.

     "I know, it's probably too small, but-"

     "Nuh-nuh no. It's perfect. Everything here is. I'm just surprised you thought of that," I admitted.

     Ruby put a hand on my lower back, pulling me closer a bit. "Why wouldn't I?"

     I smiled up at him and stretched up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, Ruby. I'm gonna put my stuff away, alright?" I asked. He nodded and left me to do what I needed.

     I started with my clothes and makeup and ended by leaning my sketchbooks up against the wall in the back of the room. I looked up and saw a wooden rim on the ceiling right where the separation started. I made a mental note to see if I could add a curtain rod to separate my workspace from my personal space a little more.

     I laid on the bed once I was done, exhausted from the day, both mentally and physically. I hadn't really given myself time to process what had happened. I was in New Orleans, which was also my new home. And I was now living with Ruby, who I had an undefined relationship with. It was nearly unbelievable, it felt like a crazy, wonky, dream.

     "You okay in there?" Ruby called from behind my door. He opened it and I sat up, bringing my knees to my chest.

     "Just got finished, actually," I replied.

     He took a few steps in and looked around. "Damn, it barely looks like ya live in here, shawty," he joked.

     "Most of my things were meant to be put away. I don't have much."

     "I know, I'm fuckin' with ya. Listen, I'm almost done cookin', you wanna come down?"

     "You're cooking?"

     "Yeah, come on. You'll like it I promise."

     He led me down to the kitchen, where the scent of the food was strong. He had a small kitchen table as well as a dining room we went through to get to the kitchen. The kitchen table was littered with bowls and jars and spices and other things I assume he used to cook.

     He showed me how he organized shit in case I ever wanted to cook in there. He even let me help him finish up, and I offered to clean the mess on the table, but he declined.