Ruby

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"Ruby!"

The scream came before the punch could land. I didn't register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.

"Go to the infirmary!" Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What's wrong with her? Where did those come from?

I knew exactly where they came from.

If Chubs was here, he'd likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply...couldn't. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.

With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.

My arms didn't hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn't get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts...he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.

The only consolation I had was that I wasn't mortally wounded, which meant he wasn't, either. But that doesn't mean I didn't regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.

If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.

"Ruby?" Cate's voice.

I swallowed hard before answering. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?" She asked, standing outside of my stall.

"Yes." I lied.

"Coach Johnson said you were hurt—" She didn't buy it. "Look, if you don't want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—"

"I'm fine." I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.

"Ruby, I can see the blood." Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. "Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds."

Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.

If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn't here at all.

I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate's credit, she didn't flinch at the sight of me. "Oh, Ruby..." She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.

"Press on it." She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.

I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. "This is going to hurt a little..." She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn't comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.

"There." When she's done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.

"Th...thank you." I managed to choke out.

She gave me a tender smile. "Don't mention it." She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.

Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, "You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too." She paused for a second, "You're...not entirely helpless in this situation."

Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn't even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn't seem so bad.

I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn't even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.

But then again, she probably didn't understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.

That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn't miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.

I just want to be myself again, even if it's just for a moment.

So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.

+++

His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.

His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.

"It was you." Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half...anger?

"What was?" I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.

He threw me a "really?" look. "Don't insult my intelligence." He snapped, "These are Liam's, aren't they?"

I almost asked "how do you know", but that would confirm his suspicion. "What makes you say that?" I asked instead.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not playing games with you." He huffed, "Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn't even know you exist!"

"And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain." I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.

He blew out a sigh of exasperation. "Look, I don't care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I'm telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this."

"What do you know?" I retorted, finally couldn't keep the lid on my anger anymore. "Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?"

Cole really laughed. "You think I don't know?" He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. "I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time." He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. "And I've seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don't double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?"

My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.

"Go find him." Cole snapped. "And for Christ's sake, stay together this time."



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