Inevitable (Revised&Edited)

New beginnings.

Songs of the chapter:
Sweater Weather- The Neighbourhood
Safe With Me - Sam Smith

Last night, I'd went home after I'd helped Harry settle in. The house smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and hazelnut coffee, two of my favorite things. I put down my stuff and took out my red Marlboro pack. As the smoke infiltrated the air, I sat on the kitchen stool I had in my small kitchen. That kid Harry from the homeless shelter seemed really sketchy {A/N: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)}, he rarely spoke and when he did they were short, cautious phrases. I wonder what had previously happened in his life that has scarred him to this point.

Putting out my cigarette, I drank a glass of water before climbing into bed.

Now, I'm getting dressed to go to the shelter since it's Saturday and I don't have classes today- getting dressed as in literally wearing the cleanest smelling clothing on the floor of my messy room. I really needed to do laundry soon.

Getting into my car, I turned up the radio as Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood started blasting through my speakers. Overplayed but still quite catchy.

Soon enough I was walking inside to find Margaret.

"Hey Hun, we're just preparing breakfast, would you please go see Cathy in the cafeteria and help her sort it out?"

Hastily nodding I headed off down the hallway leading to the right side of the building where the cafeteria was located. Sure enough, Cathy was distributing today's breakfast which happened to consist of a tray with a bagel and some fruit and scrambled eggs on the side. The cafeteria was set up in tables of five and each table got a thermos of hot coffee.

"Hey Frances, can you get this line of people while I do this line? There's too many people for me to handle alone today."

"Sure Cathy." I replied.

Eventually the lines had cleared and everyone was sitting at their table, enjoying their meal. Everyone except for one person- Harry. Deep in thought, he was pulling at his bottom lip, his brows furrowed.

Deciding to bring him a meal myself since I had finished, I grabbed a tray and headed in his direction. As soon as Harry noticed my presence his furrowed brows smoothed out, eliminating the prominent crease between then.

"You. I never got your name. Care to end my misery?"

I chuckled. "Well hello to you too, Harry. Why didn't you come up to get your food?"

"I asked first. Answer for an answer?"

"Alright, Frances. Your turn."

"Not hungry."

What? "What? Your stomach was grumbling yesterday I would've thought you'd still be starving after last night's light dinner."

His stomach grumbled once again.

"Harry, your stomach is grumbling again so I now I know you're truly lying. What's the real reason you don't want to eat?"

He murmured a reply, so low even I couldn't hear it and I was sitting right across from him.

"What was that?"

"I feel everyone's eyes on me when I move. I feel them making fun of my every move. Taunting voices laughing at me, waiting for my next mistake to happen."

My heart ached. I wished that I could put my hand over his, somehow relieve some of the stress and anxiety he felt about a simple task. However, I had only known him for a day and I was not trying to come off as pushy.

"I'll bring you your lunch everyday then. Meet me here everyday and I'll bring it to you."

His precious eyes looked up at me, sadness and shame evident in them, but also confusion.

"Why would you do that for me? You don't even know me."

"Maybe I want to get to know you."

He looked away, deep in thought once again.

"Why did you want to know my name so badly?"

Snapping out of his daze, he looked over at me again. "What did you say?"

"I said,  why did you want to know my name so badly? You specifically said 'Care to end my misery?' when I came over to you."

Seemingly forgetting about what I assumed was a slip up of his, he nodded in realization. 

"I wanted to know the name of the person who rescued me. When you came to me I was just minutes away from death. Honestly, black dots were beginning to cloud my vision, any moment of those could have been my last. Yet I am sitting here. And you are also sitting here. And we are conversing as normal people. As if I wasn't going to die last night. People like that don't come around too often."

In awe, I just nodded, mesmerized by just how powerful he made something I had so simply done yesterday seem as if it was something heroic. Because it wasn't. I was just giving back to the beautiful people who provided me with services everyday that usually were taken for granted. And how he had pieced those thoughts so neatly in what was turning out to be his very complex mind.

And maybe this boy wasn't just another helpless homeless, maybe there was more to him than the dirty park bench I found him on. Maybe he wasn't just pink lips, a torn oversized raggedy sweater and a dirty plane necklace hanging around his neck. Maybe his greasy, knotted, dirty long hair told more stories about his past than he himself could tell. Maybe the dark circles around his eyes weren't just from lack of sleep.

Maybe maybe is just a start to what may be the beginning of another story.

Maybe.