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2. friend or foe?
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Rue felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she rubbed her hands together, attempting to stop her fingertips from icing over.
Snowflakes seemed to dance on the tip of her nose, and she was starting to regret declining Jamie's offer to drive her to the store even though it was only a brisk walk away. Rue wanted so badly to be bundled up in his dark-coloured Range Rover, with its heated seats and tinted windows.
"Why the fuck is it winter in March," she grumbled out, yearning for the heated seats of Jamie's Rover, or at least her mismatching beanie and scarf.
Tugging at the ends of her hair, she picked up her pace as a low voice spoke up from behind her, causing her to stumble in fright.
"Innit, fuck that shit."
Her eyes widened in shock as the masked figure approached her. There appeared to be something wrong with the left side of his face, but Rue knew that rough voice well enough.
Fear coursed through her veins and every fiber in her body was telling her to run in the opposite direction, but she could not seem to move. Her feet seemed to be betraying her, remaining planted to the soiled ground.
"Modie," she hissed out the name as he came into her peripheral, acting as though it were poison on her tongue, scalding her mouth. But Rue could not hide the confusion dancing in her eyes; what was he doing here?
"So we meet again," he said with a callous smirk, baring his teeth as though they were fangs. Rue did not miss the hints of silver peaking through. "It's almost like you can't stay away from man." He gestured towards himself.
He stood in front of her then, and snaked his arms around her waist. She became rigid at his touch, frozen, and he grinned at her reaction as though her discomfort brought him immense amounts of joy.
"You're supposed to be in prison," her teeth were gritted as she spoke, hands clenched tightly by her side in fists to stop it from its rhythmic shaking.
He shrugged, "And you're supposed to be at your yard." He smirked then, his good eye glinting in the pale moonlight, "I guess we're both full of surprises, innit."
She stepped back, edging further and further away from him as he released his grip on her waist. She did not miss the tingling sensation that lingered in her stomach.
"I could call the police on you right now," she whispered, eyes fixated upon the nasty burn on the side of his face - she had a thousand and one questions but this was all she could muster up the courage to say.
"Then I'd have to kill you," he said so nonchalantly, as though he were offering her a bagel, or a scone, not handing her a death sentence.
Rue could see that there was no hesitation in his eyes; no minute flicker of guilt. Modie's face betrayed all his emotions and Rue knew him well enough to know that he was not lying, it wasn't a threat, it was a promise, one he would follow up on if he really meant it.
She laughed then, trying to mask her fear, but the laugh came out wrong, scared. He could feel the fear radiating off her as he inched closer and closer until his hot breath was fanning against her flushed face.
He stunk of weed and mint.
Instinctively, she reached up towards his face, her hand grazing against the mark. "Who did this to you," she mumbled, stuck in a trance as she began to trace the scar with the tip of her finger, over and over.
Modie flinched at her touch. It was ice-cold against the burning-hot sensation, soothing; but Modie felt undeserving of her touch, not yet at least.
"Don't matter," he grumbled out then, looking down at his shoes as though they were the most interesting thing in the world.
Rue raised a brow at him, tugging at his chin til his eyes were on hers.
"I thought you were on some badman ting, why you getting all shy?"
His demeanor changed as he answered, the usual banter oozing off his words, "'Cause of the sweet ting standing in front of me, innit."
She shoved him off her then, grinning from ear to ear like a child, "Shut up, you wasteman."
He caught her fists, wrapping his arms around her in a massive bear-hug and Rue melted into his arms, falling victim once again to his game of charades.
She had missed this, missed him.
"Don't go away again," she murmured into his ear, pressing her head tightly against his chest.
It was a good thing Modie was not planning on it.
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author's note: wallah these characters r bipolar cuz why tf they b switching up every two seconds. (acting as if i didn't write them)
also i can't tell if i LOVE this chapter or hate it sm that it makes me want to pull out my hair, i'm leaning towards somewhere in the middle x
