chapter 19

Chapter 19

Ronin attempted to fall asleep, but the man's stern voice seemed to pick at the small strings that held him together; like a violin, they plucked a new reason to hate himself until it was an eventual combination of unwanted noises they clashed and squeaked. It was too loud, too loud!

Ronin jumped up, groggy, his back was swallowed in a cold sweat prickling his tan skin. He pushed the cold window open, relying on the ledge, and crawled out, grabbing the bottle of beer he had stolen from his father. Almost slipping on the frosted roof, he slid down until secured between the gutter and his regret.

His thoughts surrounded him. Looking at the dark brown bottle, his hands shook briefly before he raised it, quickly drowning himself in what he assumed would help. A fake relief washed over him, but his body still shivered. Percy's comfort tried to trick him, it was something out of his reach. As if it meant to taunt him.

Ronin looked around the dark scene, his eyes twitching across the dark fields that surrounded the house. Just then, the wren's small figure caught his frantic glance below the slanting ledge he had seated on. Surprised he followed the pattern of the roof onto her baggy clothes that mimicked the messy hair that covered the sorrow in her wet eyes.

Ronin couldn't speak, her presence alone disrupted his attempted calm, now filling what he had hoped could be an escape into what he knew would be an endless circle of regret.

Helping Wren onto the low roof, she trembled, only layered in a thin t-shirt that covered more than half her small arms that held almost a blue hue as the cold seemed to cost her body in and out.

His eyes had locked on the bruises that coated her arm, the arms he couldn't help but look up and down. "You look like shit," Ronin grinned, sipping his bottle again; his mood had twisted, and he turned quickly without hesitation. He almost liked it, the confident vine that sprouted through him. As he looked at the wrens, he could practically see the line of events that restrained her. Ronin looked down at the quickly depleting bottle before holding his arm out, offering Wren the remaining.

She jolted as his arm reached out, trembling as she envisioned its possibilities, only taking the bottle after her hand was sturdy enough to do so.

The two sat mimicking each other as Ronin grabbed another bottle; the cold had seemed to slip away, leaving an opening for only the needed conversation.

"Isn't he gonna be mad you left?" Ronin asked, staring ahead.

Wren mumbled her answer, each low note that began to play together

Narrating the events that shaped her night, she attempted to explain what happened.

She didn't have to go into any further detail, as Ronin already knew after she had come to him, for he only asked to preserve her for the next step in the long staircase he had prepared, only taking action as he motioned to the window atop the rough roof.

Following Wren through the window, he watched her from behind; a lustful shiver ran through his spine, unlike his previous cold.

His eyes were drawn as her large shirt slid up before she planted steadily inside the room, suddenly turning as Ronin hit the floor of the room; a loud smack followed him down.

Wren looked Weller up suddenly as she turned, meeting Ronin. She couldn't control whatever emotion she was trying to feel. Both their body were intoxicated after their stay on his roof, and an empty bottle or three lay in the gutter.

Ronin's head spun before he broke into unapressed laughter, slightly salivating as he came to his drowsy feet; Wren began to smile, as she couldn't tell she had been doing so until her mouth hurt from holding the same position; she joined him in a laughter that didn't make sense.

The room filled with commotionWrenwren found the floor with Ronin, raising his arm slowly. She followed, shivering as his cold hand touched her side. His hands locked on her waist, pulling her closer. He watched her eyes, trying to read her thoughts.

Her waist was small, his fingers almost meeting. He pulled her closer, struggling to breathe, the overwhelming scent of cigarettes filling his lungs.

Wren glanced down at his firm arms, fighting a reaction. She looked back at him, the sharp hair falling across his face.

She didn't understand this feeling. It wasn't Percy's friendly nature.

Her eyes widened as his rough mouth met hers, her chest aching. She heard her heartbeat, fearing he could too. Self-conscious about her crooked teeth, her wide eyes searched for comfort.

She closed her eyes, lost in the unknown sensation. Everything she once thought had fled, only Ronin's hands could define her.

And only they would.

____

Ronins eyes glued to the in front of him, his elbows dug into his legs as he held his head, sitting in front of the room he'd once lived in, as if the small crack at the bottom of the door could narrate what was happening.

For the friend he had, the friend he'd made, and the friend he lost, lay in that room.

The door had been shut with a wall of locks keeping him out, as well as keeping in what he couldn't reach, what he couldn't repair, hidden behind his walls, locked within his head, and separated from his current emotional extent.

His chin began to shake, his teeth grinding before the whispers the room produces.

"Damnit wren, I wanna talk to you." His face began to flush as the small hallway had only become a background for what he was about to create.

"It hasn't gotten better, it hasn't, and I know you know how that feels, you're the only one who could. Wren it hurts, it hurts"

His words coated the frame of the door, not a word came back, for shed had only ever listened, like no one had before, no questions, no responses, no words, no repeating.

"I don't know what to do wren, can you let me in, please. Please.

His voice began to shake, trembling for he knew it wouldn't open, it couldn't. Reaching his hand beneath the door the floor prickled his fingers as the smoke coated his nails.

Slowly, sorrowful his eyes grew narrow, she wasn't there.

She hadn't been there. Somehow, someway she'd left.

She'd left a long time ago, opened the window he had thought he'd locked.

She'd moved on.

She'd begun to do something he hadn't, something he couldn't yet.

Heal.