Romeo watched Annie carefully. She was entirely defeated. This was exactly what he’d dreaded. Exactly why didn’t want to get involved. He’d taken advantage of a young, naïve, farm girl and now they had nothing, save for the clothes on their back. Romeo was sure however, that Annie would give herself more credit than that. And Romeo didn’t like calling her naïve either. But in the end, he was the one who knew better. He was the one she’d trusted to protect her, and he’d failed in every conceivable way. "I’ll fix it,” he repeated stubbornly, turning his head to face the wall. He couldn’t look at her. How could he? As she began talking again, wave upon wave of guilt hit him. He raised his fist into the air. If he were not so tired, he would have punched the wall. Instead, he dejectedly let his fist fall against it, before he leaned forward to rest his forehead against his fist. He stood, schlumped in this position until he heard Annie begin to sniff.
Slowly, he turned. As much as he couldn’t bear to face her, it was worse to see her tearing up. He’d said he’d loved her, didn’t he? He sure had a funny way of showing it. Ruining her life, and then letting her sit there and take all the blame. He was aware of the fact that he was being too quiet. He didn’t even know where to begin. But he willed himself to take some form of action. “I’m sure there is something in here, for you to sleep in.” He opened their bag, only now taking the time to assess what Annie had grabbed from his closet. It was stuffed to the brim with clothing. Mostly his, and also mainly jackets, like he’d asked for. At least they wouldn’t be cold. He pulled out a shirt. “Here,” he handed it to her. “Take off your clothes, they’re dirty. You can sleep in this.”
After a few moments, with himself also changing into a set of clothes, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside Annie. “Come here. I’ll keep you warm,” he motioned gently, pushing her down onto the bed atop his coat which she’d laid out for herself. He then grabbed the coat he’d been wearing, and used it to cover Annie. He doubted she’d want to use the sheets, considering she didn’t even want to lay on the mattress. As she was sandwiched in between his two coats, Romeo wrapped his arm around Annie, squeezing her tight as he spooned her. “It’s not your fault they’re dead. Valentine was going to kill Leo whether or not you took the job. Besides, he forced you into it. If anything, Annie, you bought him an extra few months, while they let you get close to him.” It was Romeo’s fault, that he hadn’t caught onto their ploy to frame Annie sooner. “You don’t need to blame yourself for Leo’s death. Least of all, the other two men. I killed them. Not you.”
Annie nearly argued with him when he assured her there was something in the bag for her to sleep with. That wasn’t her fear, technically. There was nothing of hers in there. Everything of hers was far away now. But to argue with him about her clothes of all things felt so small, so insignificant, that it felt better to just say nothing, sniffling again and turning her face away from him and the bag. Suddenly, she felt as though she were just a child who had been caught play-acting as a grown woman. Her tears embarrassed her, the weight of their situation scared her, and she desperately wanted someone to tell her what to do. An easy fix to everything. Of course, it couldn’t be that way. Instead, she took the shirt he offered, thanking him and blinking her tears away. She felt unattractive when she cried anyway, she didn’t need to make a whole scene of it. As she took her clothes off, she noticed light bruising on her arms where she had been held back forcefully just a day prior. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that she hadn’t noticed or considered this, or that it had really just been one day since they had gone out on the road.
Without making a fuss, she put on Romeo’s shirt, far too exhausted to worry about anything else. Climbing into bed besides him, Annie did feel grateful that he had given her his jackets, giving her an option to remain untouched by whatever lived on these sheets. Tucking her legs closer to her body, she was able to remain mostly covered by his jacket, backing up to get even closer to the warmth and comfort of his chest. He was right, he could keep her warm, but more than warmth she wanted to rest in the familiarity of his hold. She was glad she was facing the wall as he spoke, feeling the hopelessness of their situation wash over her yet again as he tried to comfort her. Though he tried to convince her otherwise, she couldn’t believe him that none of this was her fault. For a moment, she considered fighting with him, arguing yet again that this was all her fault, but it felt rather hopeless. Rather than reply, she pressed a kiss to the back of his hand.
After a moment, still remaining quiet, she turned to face him. Her hand lifted to touch his cheek gently, noticing the the gash that had now scarred near his eye for the first time in a while. Had it really just been months since he had shown up to her apartment, bloodied and bruised? They had lived through so much together in such a short time. How could they ever have known they would end up here? She extended her thumb and traced the scar delicately, following it with her eyes then returning her gaze to his. “I don’t blame you for any of this. I know you blame yourself, I don’t think we’ll agree on who’s to blame,” she stated, as though it were just a fact. “I need you to know that even if this were your fault, I would do everything the exact same way. I would rather be here with you in this motel room than have never approached you that night. All I want right now is to be close to you, in every way.”
2087
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