Ruben Dias - One Shots

A House Is Not A Home Part 1

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

You were stringing along an old country road on your way to your knew house. The gravel made the tires swerve beneath you but your grandpa's old Chevrolet was up for the challenge. It would be dark soon and light rain already tapped the car windows. By the time you arrived at the adress that you had been given, the breathtaking landscape was already swallowed by the night, preventing you from seeing anything beyond a two kilometer ratio. From the driveway of the house you could see a shed rising in the fields. Must be the barn, you thought. You had been informed that there would be a barn. You didn't own any animals but you could do other things with it, like turn it into an atelier to hold your art.

"Shit!"

You rushed towards the house as the rain was pouring now. Upon turning the key in the lock you were welcomed into a dark house with silhouettes of overcast furnitures.

"Shit."

You were told that the house was left furnished for the next owner, however you had not been informed about the absence of electricity. Seeing as there was a storm, you suspected a power outage. Despite this knowledge you kept flipping the switch, with nothing happening. The house remained in darkness.

"Come on." You sighed. It had already been long journey and all you longed for was a hot shower before bed. Getting started on the house would have to wait until tomorrow.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Ruben Dias?"

In case of any emergency, you had been informed to call the number of a local bar, perhaps the only bar in what appered to be a very small town. Despite the storm it only took you a couple of minutes to arrive. Since there was no power you hadn't been able to call. You had entered the semi full bar, asking for the name that was written next to the number you had been given.

"How can I help you sweetheart?" Said the man tending the bar. It was a Saturday night and the bartender found a way to take the next man's drink order, at the same time give you his full attention.

"A...are you Mr Dias?"

"Dias?" The man snorted. He looked to be in his late fifties, but it was hard to tell because of his vibrant personality and youthful smile. "As in Ruben Dias?"

"Yes. Are you him?"

The man laughed. "I'm afraid not. You won't get a hold of him tonight, I promise you that."

"B...but I was given his number to call in case of an emergency. I just moved into the house down the road but because of the storm I have no power."

"No?" The man looked genuinely concerned. "I'll see what I can do." He took a step back from the bar, grabbing the home line that hung on the wall behind him. As a call was made you took a seat in one of the stools before the counter, curiously turning your head. The people here looked different from the ones in your hometown. People back home looked more diversed, and younger some how. On a Saturday night like this one the bars back home would be swirling with loud college grads and well dressed people from the city. The people in this town looked old, you observed. At least the majority of them appered to be over forty years of age. There was a young man though, sitting on a stool not too far from you. Sitting was the wrong word to explain his posture. The man lay passed out drunk, his limb body collapsed upon the bar counter. He appeared to be asleep, snoring peaceful despite the noise around him. He wore flannel, typical attire for the majority of the men in the bar. It seemed to be the typical attire for all men of small towns in the English country. That and heavy boots that came in handy during their hard labor. To your surprise the drunk man wore black sneakers, Converse, for those who are interested in knowing the brand. As you focused more on the man's facial features you could tell that he was handsome. Beyond his thick beard and untamed hair, lay a young man with fair skin.

"Alright..." Said the bartender as he hung up the phone. He had noted your fixation of the man laying passed out on his bar table, causing you to feel embarrassed for staring. "My wife is on her way. She can help you." He said.

"Is she an electrician?"

Again the man's face flared up along his marvelous laughter. "No she is not, but I dare see her try. She is truly stubborn like that."

"Why is she coming then? How could she possibly help me?"

"Well, you are in a need of a place to stay, are you not?"

Because of the power outage you had no place to stay for the night. At least not if you wanted somewhere dry and warm to sleep.

"I would've taken you to her myself, but as you can see..." The man gestured at the sea of people before him. "....I am a little busy."

"Aren't there any hotels in town?"

Not to be rude, but the thought of being taken in by strangers automatically raised a red flag within you.

"Hotel?" The man frowned. "Aren't those for tourists, thought you were a local now?" There was a twinkle in his eyes, one that instantly made you feel at ease.

"What are you drinking sweetheart?" He asked, grabbing a glass from a trey.

"Um...somthing hot." You were shivering in your seat, your hair still wet from the rain.

"Tequila shot?"

"Not that kind of hot." You laughed.

"Hot chocolate it is." He winked, disappearing into the kitchen in the back. He would return with the tastiest hot chocolate that you had ever had.

"Oh poor girl..."

The bartenders wife arrived a few minutes later. She was a short and plump woman with platinum white hair.

"David, get her a towel." She said, ushering her husband back into the kitchen. Whilst he was gone you two made acquaintance. You told her your name and she told you hers, which was Katarina. You told her about moving into town and the power outage at your house, most likely caused by the storm.

"Not the warmest welcome huh?" She chuckled as she tried to warm you up with a blanket that had been draped over your shoulders. Her husband, David, returned with a towel, actually a table cloth, for your hair.

"Make sure to tell Ruben to come by early tomorrow." Katarina told her husband. "He might have to help Y/N clear up her yard after the storm."

At least they didn't lack hospitality in this town, you thought.

"Alright Y/N, I'm taking you home with me so you can take a hot shower and get yourself cleaned up."

"That's so kind of you, thank you."

You stood, your body shivering with cold. Katarina held you close, ready to escort you out of the bar. She turned to her husband. "You make sure he gets home too." She said, reffering to the man passed out drunk by the bar.

"Always. " David winked.

They were so kind and thoughtful here, you thought. You already felt at home.