Ruby Red

VII

The walk to the market seems endless. I have so many questions, but can't manage to ask any of them. Ken is so... mysterious. I don't know anything about him, yet for some reason, I'm doing as he says for the umpteenth time. I have yet to figure out of it's impulsively, or simply because I don't know what else to do.

All way he stares at his feet as he walks. Such a cold guy. And I thought I was antisocial. We finally arrive at the monthly market. There are many stalls today. Most of them are for food, but the occasional shoe stalls definitely aren't missing. Ken walks down the closed off road absentmindedly, kicking a little stone into the crowd every now and then. He suddenly stops in front of a small clothing stall. "Buy here." He places a few bills on the palm of my hand. "I'll wait at the end." Before I can even object, he disappears into the crowd of shoppers. I look at the clothes in front of me. This'll have to do for now.

I make my way through the clumped crowd in my new clothes, getting a good ol' push every now and then. Gotta love busy markets. When I finally make it to the end, I let out a relieved sigh. Finally, air. I look around and when I spot Ken in his usual black coat, back leaning against a wall, I start walking. "What do you think?" I ask semi sarcastically, spinning around for him once. He doesn't seem amused, and as per usual, he doesn't even look. "Use the left over change to buy some food." He says.

Alright pal. I know I didn't ask the question seriously, but to completely ignore it is just plain out rude. I slightly raise an eyebrow at him, scoffing quietly. "What do you think this is, a donation? I make my own money you know." I say. He sighs. "And where is that money right now? In your stolen wallet, perhaps? In the empty cash register at your broken down shop?" Like the idiot I am, I stand here speechless. He's right. I sigh, a slight pout forming on my lips. Why does he always have an answer to everything?

It's been a tiring day. Not even due to the fact that we've been walking around the market all afternoon. Ken is tiring. He doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at me, and yet always persuades me to do as he says somehow. We make our way down the empty market road as the sun sinks below the grey clouds in the sky. I look at the small plastic bag of groceries in my hand and swing it gently. I suddenly long for my shitty apartment and the comfort it gives me. I miss my stupid sofa, my stupid bed, my shitty kitchen, I miss it all. With a deep sigh, I turn my head to Ken. "I want to go home." I say. "No." He replies instantly, not a single hint of doubt in his voice. "I'm going home." "No." Another failed attempt. It's really impossible to change this man's mind. How can I persuade him for once? He needs to know that I'm being serious. Maybe... this will work. I reach out and grab his arm, pulling him my way. He stumbles back awkwardly and freezes in front of me. There's about an inch between his chest and mine, and I can feel his arm stiffen underneath my grip. I speak quietly and sincerely, so only he can hear me. "Ken. Thank you for everything but... I really want to go home."

He pushes my hand off his arm in one quick move and steps back. I look up at him slightly nervously, and see him bite on the inside of his lip. Did my sudden touch... make him shy? You'd think he was experienced. He stares at the ground in front of my feet and clumps his hands into fists. "Go." he says after a while of silence. My eyes widen slightly and I suddenly feel more alert. "...Really?" I ask. "Just go." And with that, he turns around and walks away. I stare at him in confusion. Just minutes ago he was so set on not letting me go home and now he's agreed to let me go? I inhale to yell his name, but instead let out a disappointed sigh. I really do want to go home, but not with a feeling of guilt. I shake my head to myself. Why do I suddenly feel bad for him? He insisted on buying these things for me. I turn around, and slowly walk the opposite direction.

All though I feel bad, I'm going home.