After getting away from his cruel father's tyranny, Randall has to learn how to live again, and accept the person he was meant to be - with a little help of a local bartender...
*****
An empty shell is all what is left of twenty-five-yea...
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-Randall-
Cole did stay with me. At first, we just stood there in the middle of my dark kitchen. He had let go of me at some point, but he still stayed right in front of me. I guess he didn't trust me to stay calm. He didn't trust me enough to leave me alone.
"I'm not going to hurt myself..." I told him.
"Good."
The silence continued for a moment. My mind was blank. I probably would've just stood there for hours, unable to form a single thought, but then he lifted his hand and carefully touched the side of my face.
"We should clean these," he murmured.
I touched the same place. I felt something wet, and when I brought the hand under my gaze, I saw blood. I couldn't understand what I was seeing. Was I bleeding? Why?
"Do you have a medical kit or something?" he asked, and I nodded, pointing at a cabinet on our left. He hesitated, but eventually went to turn the lights on and get the kit, though he kept his eyes on me.
He had nothing to worry about. I was still staring at the blood. Now I could feel it dripping down my neck. I did that to myself. I did, didn't I? I... I did.
A short moment later, Cole made me sit down next to the table and started cleaning the wounds.
"They're not that deep, but..." he said quietly, his expression now sad.
I didn't even want to think about it.
After Cole was done bandaging my face, he sat down in front of me. We didn't talk at all for a while. I guess we both were too shaken to talk. I was too ashamed to talk. I was still fighting with myself, but at least I wasn't freaking out anymore.
What else to call it? I had freaked out. Over a fucking burger... Cole had to be crazy. Why was he still staying with me? I called him a rapist, yelled at his face, and threatened him with a knife. Then he had to save my life. From myself.
"You can go if you want," I finally breathed out, not looking at him.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, leaning closer over the table. "You have my word."
I shook my head. "You should stay away from me. I'm such a fucking mess..."
"Let's just take it easy now, okay? I'm not going anywhere," he said gently, studying me with his gaze for a long time before he continued. "I'm really sorry for everything."
"You have nothing to apologize for," I said.
"Yes, I do. I caused this. I pushed you–"
"You didn't do anything wrong," I said, interrupting him. "This is all my fault..."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. Instead, he just watched me for a moment, hesitating.
"Will you let me help you?" he finally asked carefully.
