Through time; The ripper

Not allowed to leave

*Lily*

I help Leo to my small kitchen table, the wooden surface scratched and worn but bursting with memories both my own and from those using it before me. “I’m sorry it’s not much,” I say, glancing at the meager contents of my fridge. “But I can whip up a sandwich. It’s not gourmet, but it’ll have to do.”

He nods, a slight smile blooming on his face. As I rummage through the fridge, I steal glances at him. His skin is pale, and the bandages around his upper body, covers a good part of it, but I can’t help but notice that he is in great shape… in that natural way, not gym ripped. There’s a spark in his eyes that makes my heart race slightly. I can’t help but admire his resilience, even in the face of such overwhelming darkness.

I pull out bread, lettuce, and a few slices of deli meat, the simplest of ingredients, but I make sure to layer them with care. “How do you take your sandwich?” I ask, my voice light despite the tension that still lingers in the air.

“Surprise me,” he replies, leaning back in the chair. I can see the tension easing from his shoulders, just a little, and it fills me with hope.

After I finish making the sandwich, I serve it to him with a side of potato chips. “Here you go! The finest culinary creation I could muster… I mean it is a British stable,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

He takes a bite, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, this is… actually really good,” he says, chewing slowly, savoring the flavors. I can’t help but grin at his enthusiasm. “This might be the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“You do not get out much, do you?” I tease, folding my arms. “It’s just a sandwich.”

“Sometimes, it’s the simple things that make a big difference,” he replies, a hint of sincerity in his tone. I feel a warmth spread through me at the unexpected compliment.

While he eats, I dart back to my room to change the sheets on my bed. The fabric is soft, floral, and inviting. I want him to feel safe here, even if just for a moment. As I toss the soiled sheets into the laundry basket, I catch a glimpse of my cats, Darcy and Heathcliff, lounging lazily on the couch. They have both been over to greet Leo..

When I return to the kitchen, Leo is licking the last remnants of mayonnaise from his fingers. “You really put your heart into that,” I say, gesturing to the empty plate. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he replies, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

As I clear the table, I notice him shifting in his seat, his expression changing. “I should probably get going now,” he says, the words heavy on his tongue. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Not so fast,” I say, my voice firm. “You’re spending the night here, Leo. It’s not safe for you to leave, especially not in your condition. What if those stitches open up? What would you do then?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off before he can protest. “I’m serious. You need to rest, and I can’t let you just walk out into the night. I’ll take the couch with the cats.”

He raises an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his features. “Are you sure about this. You don’t know me.”

“Maybe not,” I admit, crossing my arms defiantly. “But I do know that I can’t let you go like this. My cats seem to like you already, and they’re great judges of character. If they trust you, then I trust you, too.”

He pauses, considering my words. The tension in the air shifts, and I can see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Your cats trust me?” he asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Absolutely,” I reply, a smile breaking through. “Darcy and Heathcliff have a sixth sense for people. If they’re okay with you, then you’re welcome here.”

He chuckles softly, the sound warming my heart. “Alright, fine. I’ll stay,” he concedes, his voice low. “But only because I don’t want to end up bleeding all over the pavement.”

“Deal,” I say, a rush of relief flooding through me. “Now, let’s get you settled in.”

I lead him to my bedroom, the cozy atmosphere wrapping around us like a blanket. “This is your space for the night,” I say, gesturing to the bed. “I promise it’s comfiest place you’ll find.”

He hesitates for a moment, looking at the bed as if it were a throne meant for royalty. “You really want me to take your bed?” he asks, a hint of disbelief still lingering in his voice. “It doesn’t feel very gentlemanly.”

I nod firmly, crossing my arms. “You’ve had a rough night, and you need to rest. Also, with all respect, you are quite a lot bigger than me. I’ll be fine on the couch with Darcy and Heathcliff.”

He seems to weigh his options, glancing between the inviting bed and the couch where my cats are already curling up. “You’re really not going to let me argue this, are you?”

“Nope,” I say with a grin. “You need to heal, and I’m not going to let you leave until I am sure the wound won’t re-open.”

He lets out a long sigh, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Fine, I guess I’ll take the bed. But you better be comfortable on that couch.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I reply, waving him off. “I’ve spent plenty of nights on that couch with these two.” I point to the cats, who are now eyeing Leo with curiosity. “They’re great company… Can’t promise they won’t get in the bed with you though… Darcy steals the duvet.”

“Get some rest,” I say softly, my heart swelling with an unexpected tenderness as he settles in. “We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

He nods, and as he closes his eyes, I can’t help but smile. There is something endearing about him, almost boyish, when he relaxes.

I tiptoe back into the living room, curling up on the couch with Darcy and Heathcliff. They settle against me, their purring a soothing lullaby. I can’t help but glance back toward the bedroom, where Leo rests. I hope he finds solace in his sleep, even if just for tonight.