I was aware that Raven was holding me in his arms, guiding me through the damp streets of the city. But I didn’t care that it was him I felt safe with. I couldn’t—and didn’t want to—fight that feeling. I needed it too much at that moment. Without it, I was afraid I would fall apart.

Besides, it was only the feeling of safety that registered. Sometimes during our walk, I forgot entirely who was next to me. I gave in to my thoughts and let Raven lead me. He knew where I lived. I trusted him to bring me home safely. On that point, at least, I trusted him completely.

My thoughts spiralled back to what had happened. Has it all just been in my head? Had my mind started conjuring hallucinations that felt real? Or had it really happened? I had charged forward without thinking—just like that. No second thoughts. Because it had been him. My father. Standing there one moment… and gone the next. What had even been the point of that? To lure me into a dead-end just to disappear again, like he had before? Couldn't he just screw over someone else for once?

The tears that came now were from anger, not confusion or desperation. They were silent tears, but I guess Raven felt me tense and started to hold me just a little tighter. I think he was afraid I might do something reckless again. However, I wasn’t capable of that right now. My energy reserves were almost in the minus digits. I just wanted to get home. Except—what would my mom say if she saw me like this? I couldn’t face her like that. Not when she already had enough to carry. And certainly not while looking like a corpse that had lied too long in the river and just chased down a ghost who'd broken her life in two.

Maybe I needed to calm down before I walked through that door. My feet hurt. How long had we even been walking? It was already dark, and only then did I notice the rain had stopped. Most likely a while ago. My body was cold, achy. Clothes damp, but luckily not dripping wet anymore. I needed a break.

To let Raven know, I slowed down my pace until we came to a stop.

“Need a break?” he asked gently. I only nodded.

“We’re almost there. Just a couple of minutes more,” he said with quiet encouragement.

Almost home? I blinked at our surroundings. The streetlights glowed faintly, casting familiar shadows. He was right—we were nearly at my apartment building. I hadn’t even realised. Had I really been that spaced out?

But I couldn’t go inside like this. My eyes were probably bloodshot, my face swollen. My mom didn’t need to see me unraveling. She already carried the weight of someone who’d been abandoned. No need for her to worry that her daughter had just met the man responsible—and wasn’t able to handle it.

I shook my head to signal I wasn’t ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Raven studying me, posture slightly hunched, as if unsure what to do. Then he stepped back and took my hand. I flinched slightly from the unexpected touch—my fingers were ice cold, while his were almost burning. But I didn’t resist.

Without a word, he led me a little further down the path and stopped in front of a bench which was positioned below a tree.

What were we doing here?

I looked at him, confused. His gaze was calm, his lips curled in the smallest smile. He nodded toward the bench.
“Have a seat.”

I hesitated, but gave in quickly after listening to my aching limbs and sat down. The wood was surprisingly drie compared to myself. 

Raven made himself comfortable next to me—with a somehow annoying distance between us. He left a space wide enough for a pony to slip through. And for once, I kind of wished he hadn’t. I was shivering, and the cold was seeping in fast.

Looking down at my knees I folded my arms around me, to keep myself from shivering too much. A few seconds later, something heavy and warm draped over my shoulders and back. I blinked in surprise and looked over at Raven. He’d placed a jacket around me. A known smell surrounded me. Sandalwood, cinnamon and this very distinctive scent that belong to him and him alone.

Where had he gotten the jacket from? Had I really been that far gone that I hadn’t noticed him grabbing our things? A quiet wave of embarrassment washed over me.

Still, it warmed me up.

I gave him a tiny twitch of the mouth that was probably meant to be a smile.

Then I turned away again, bending forward to rest my forearms on my thighs. The pavement below me seemed far more interesting than anything else. I stared at it like it might give me answers.

The scene in the alley haunted me. My father had been there. And then he hadn’t. And then Raven had come. Steady, like a bastion of calm. Unquestioning.

There was a pebble in front of my shoe. I glared at it like it had personally offended me.

Raven hadn’t asked a single thing. Not what had happened. Not why I ran. Not why I broke down like that. He had simply followed, helped, been there.

Anyone else would’ve been full of questions by now. Demanding explanations. But not him.

And for that—for just being there—I didn’t know whether I wanted to punch him, hug him, or cry all over again.
I quickly dismissed the thought—and the fact that he was sitting right next to me. My mind was too occupied with my dad's sudden appearance. It just didn’t make sense.

“Why was he just standing there in the street?" I whispered to myself.

Did I seriously want to talk to Raven about this?

...Yes. I think I did. I needed to confide in someone. Needed this heavy feeling etched into my chest gone. And somewhere deep inside, I knew he was exactly the right person. He’s annoying and confusing, but all my senses told me I could rely on him.
“What made you jump? Did you see something?” came that beautiful, careful voice. He didn’t push, just offered space.

I was still staring at the pebble.
Should I really tell him?

After a few quiet minutes of contemplating, I finally shook my head sharply and straightened up. Drawing in a deep breath, I braced myself to meet Raven’s eyes.

“I saw my father,” I managed.
His ice-blue gaze softened, full of sympathy and understanding. He turned slightly toward me, inching closer. I could feel the edge of his warmth, and with it came the certainty—I could tell him anything.

“It began five years ago. He cheated on my mother and ran off with his new…” I paused, searching for the right word to describe Janine. “Chick.”
Raven didn’t move, his eyes fixated on me. He just listened.
“When my mother finally divorced him, we would still see him every other weekend. But around a year ago, all contact with him just evaporated. Like he vanished into thin air and never heard a word from him again.”

I shrugged.

“It was like the earth had swallowed him whole. Not even our lawyer could track him down. So eventually, we just gave up. And... here we are.”
I exhaled deeply, feeling a strange lightness in my chest. Now he knew. Now someone knew. The words and burden had finally been laid bare.

Raven’s gaze stayed locked on me, eyebrows slightly pulled together, like he was soaking in every word.

“And then he was just standing in the street today—and you ran after him?” he concluded, calmly.

I nodded and sighed again. My shoulders ached from the tension.
With a quiet smile, Raven leaned forward and ruffled my half-dry hair, like an older brother might.

“A very understandable knee-jerk reaction,” he said, amusement lacing his voice.
His hand fell back to his side, and for a moment, we just looked at each other. I couldn’t help but grin. Okay... yeah, maybe it had been a bit impulsive. But what else could I have done? My brain had gone straight into auto-pilot.
Just as that familiar lightness returned, Raven’s expression shifted. His smile faded, replaced by something more distant. I paused, frowning slightly.

Had I said something wrong?

I tilted my head and gave him a pointed look. If I could pour my soul out, then so could he. I felt like I wanted him to know that. At this point, we could both share some vulnerability.
And really, thinking about it, I didn’t actually know anything about him. Nothing that eventually mattered, like about his family, or where he came from. He was practically a walking enigma.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

His eyes flickered down to my lap, then back up to my face. 

“I was just thinking about my own family,” he admitted, voice quieter now.

That surprised me. For some reason, I’d assumed his life was... well, fine. Stable. Maybe even perfect. He had that air about him—cool, collected, like nothing could really shake him.

Or maybe that was just the illusion he let people see.
“How do you mean?” I asked, genuinely curious. Could it be that his family situation at home was similar to mine and what I have just told him was a painful reminder?

If it was, he didn’t let it show for too long. His grin widened, and he let out a forced breath.

“Let’s just say it’s… complicated,” was all he said.  “But it’s okay—I swear. Nothing I can’t handle,” he added. He probably felt like he needed to add something after seeing my still questioning face that said as much as ‘are you sure about that’.

I understood. He didn’t want to go into detail. And although I was inexplicably eager to know more, I left it alone. You can’t force someone to open up. I was the same, and honestly, I wasn’t angry that I had confided in him while he’d revealed so little about himself. I just... wished I knew more. Eventually time would tell.

I gave him a small, shy smile.
“Thank you for helping me and… just being there.”
His eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gratitude, and his expression softened. With a gentle smile tugging at his lips, he moved a little closer, propping one foot up on the bench. His knee brushed lightly against my thigh, and I felt the warmth of his body through his jeans. Had he done all that training and running in regular clothes?

Before I could figure out what was going on, he wrapped his arms around me. Strong, warm, and entirely too comforting. My cheeks flushed instantly.
What was he doing?

“I understand you a whole lot better now,” he whispered behind me, a hint of satisfaction and relief in his voice.

There was something grounding in his embrace—but I still couldn't bring myself to hug him back. So I just sat there and let it happen. I didn’t hate it, exactly... but there was still this barrier in me that told me he was just an idiotic stalker with mysterious motives.

After a moment, I gently pushed him away—mostly because if I didn’t, I was afraid we might start growing moss there on the bench. Raven sheepishly cleared his throat and I quickly thanked him again. I looked at my watch.
What?! Half past eight already?
I doubted Mom had called—probably because I’d warned her I might be late. But still, I didn’t want to stretch her patience. The last thing I needed was her actually starting to worry.

I stood up carefully, already feeling much better. My clothes were mostly dry now, and my head felt clearer, too.

Raven rose beside me.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, facing me.
I looked up at him with something that felt dangerously close to contentment—and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve officially run out of feelings for the day, probably for the whole week. If anything else dramatic happens, I’m faking a coma.”
Raven chuckled, revealing a dimple just below the right side of his lip. It made him look extremely charismatic, giving my heart a little ‘peng’ when I noticed it. I really needed to get home or else I most likely did risk falling into an emotional coma.

“And we wouldn’t want to risk that. Let’s get you home then,” he said, shaking his head in amusement and began walking ahead.