Ruby Red

X

"What has suddenly gotten into you?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. Ken hasn't stopped staring at me, and the longer he stares, the more obvious his confusion becomes. He grabs my arm all of a sudden. "Wha-" "How can you look at my eyes?" he asks. That simple question awakes a storm of thoughts in my mind. Things are slowly starting to fall into place. Why wouldn't I be able to look at his eyes? Does it have something to do with all the non-violent fights where he always wins?

"What the hell do you mean?" I snarl. He needs to cut the crap. "How can you look at my eyes and not die?!" he suddenly yells. His grip on my arm tightens. "How are you not dead? How is it possible? Tell me!" Even though his yell is loud, he doesn't look mad. He looks scared. Shivers roll down my spine. The cold guy I once knew has disappeared. For the first time ever, he's showing vulnerability. I slowly move my gaze upward, unable to think of a response. When our eyes meet yet again, his grip on my arm loosens. He finally lets go of me and lowers his head.

"We can't stay here." he says. I look at my familiar environment. He's right. I didn't listen to him the first time he warned me not to come to my apartment, and I almost died. So this time, I'll listen. Going to Aria isn't an option. Neither is going to Leo. This mess has only just started, and I sure as hell won't drag my friends into it.

We can't stay here. We. I look at him, and he immediately looks back. "Where will we go?" I ask. He sighs. "Come with me." He walks to the front door. Hesitantly, I follow him. The last thing I see before walking out of my apartment is my empty bedroom. The biker's body is gone. A hundred more questions.

______

The alley looks abandoned. Never in a million years had I thought I would walk here at night, yet here I am. I fasten my pace to keep up with Ken. I almost grab onto his arm because it's dark, but manage to save myself from embarrassment just in time. He suddenly stops in front of a worn out door. He digs a key out of his pocket and opens the lock. Is this... it? He walks in. I quickly step forward before the door shuts.

"You... live here?" I ask as I walk down the stairs carefully. The smell of old books takes a while to get used to. Two lamps illuminate the environment just enough for me to look around. The sound of rattling chains behind me tells me he's locking the door. I slowly step into the unfamiliar space. There's a bed, a mirror, two lounge chairs, a door to what appears to be a bathroom, and lastly, an enormous bookshelf. I approach the bookshelf and carefully run my fingertips along the covers. From the ancient writing style I can tell they're all antique. Did he collect all of these from the shop...? They look familiar. Footsteps. I turn around. He finally walks into the room. "So..." I say. "Are you going to explain anything? Your eyes? I still don't understand you know." He takes his coat off, and tosses it onto one of the chairs. It's the first time I see him without his coat, it's almost like he's a different person. "Do you believe in magic?" he asks. Here we go again. The same question I got asked everyday at the shop. I sigh, but before I can respond with my usual sarcastic remark, he hands me a big book.

"A curse?" I ask as I turn the pages carefully. The handwriting in this book is so ancient, that it's almost unreadable. Luckily, the drawings make it easier to understand. I close my eyes for a moment and try to process all this new information.

Ken was cursed by so called 'Shadowers' because his parents made a fatal mistake when they were younger. His father, a shadower, fell in love with a human, his mother. It was an abomination to the shadower folk. It was the most illegal thing any shadower could do. On top of that, his mother got pregnant. His parents fled and spent the rest of their lives raising Ken in secret. On the day Ken turned 12, they found him in his family's hideout. To get back at his parents, they cursed Ken.

"You will never be able to look at anyone the way your parents looked at each other. Three seconds was all it took for your father to betray his people, so three seconds is all it will take for you to kill one of your own."

And with that, Ken's misery started. He was 12 at the time, 25 now, I learned. I sigh, turning around to look at him. He's sitting on one of the lounge chairs, resting his chin on his hand, staring at the clock on his wall. The story made me sad. I still don't know if I can trust it entirely, but it does answer quite a few of my questions regarding the non-violent fights and non-existent eye contact. "If this is true... then how come it didn't kill me?" I ask. Ken looks at me. I flinch slightly. "That's what I don't understand." he replies, sighing into his hand.

More unanswered questions.