Chapter 5

Raindrops fell on his body, bringing him peace. He had been deciding whether to leave the cave or stay inside listening to the rain crashing, Chrystal Daly fell asleep after introducing herself, and Oliver made a small fire to warm up... however, the desire to go out and enjoy the famous rain was stronger than the tiredness and the cold.

The corners of his lips lifted into a smile, and then a light chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so happy that he had the urge even to laugh; it was so much better than he had imagined. The sound of each drop hitting the ground irregularly, the smell it emanated, and how soothing it was to his body and soul was a thousand times better than hearing it under the ground. Oliver raised his arms and wiped his face with the water, his hands and arms.

"It's even more beautiful than what you told me, mother."

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When Chrystal woke up, she had a severe headache and neck pain; having slept on the floor wasn't the most comfortable. She slowly got up when she noticed that she was not at home and not dead either. Why was she there, alive? When looking around, she noticed a bonfire and a human body on her back that instantly scared the redhead who thought the worst, but when she checked that she was in perfect condition, she discarded the idea of having spent the night with a stranger.

She thought about getting up and heading home, but the twinges in her head and the vague memories of last night stoped. Tiredly she snorts, leaning back against the hard wall, closing her eyes to try to forget the pain unsuccessfully. She opens her eyes, discreetly looking at the other person still asleep a few feet away from her; she was intrigued to know who he was and why she was still alive.

Why had she meddled in matters that were none of her business? That stranger didn't know her and couldn't have convinced her not to end her life.

"Tsk."

She didn't realize that she had cut the distance and was now in front of the dark-haired boy; she raised an eyebrow when she looks at his face; he didn't look like an adult, probably the same age or younger. A young man of the same age as her had convinced her not to commit suicide? The boy turns around, letting the daylight illuminate his face better, noticing the different colors that adorned him, catching Chrystal's attention. He was quite thin, and his hair was a bird's nest.

Had a stray kid interfered with getting back together with her family?

Chrystal forced herself to remember what happened the night before. She finished her shift at the coffee shop, and when she got her paycheck, she went straight to the tavern to spend it all on liquor. It was her 16th birthday, and she planned to get intoxicated to get back together with her parents and siblings. She didn't tell anyone; she had no one to tell and no one to miss her. She remembered the birthday cake Mr. Reiner gave her after he found out it was her birthday. She remembered the music in the background, and how everyone was dancing and drinking like there was no tomorrow, then she left the tavern to go to the place where her family abandoned her and then...

                                                 >>I don't want to die<<

Chrystal backs up to the campfire, covering her mouth as the stranger opens his sleepy eyes. That boy had said the same words as Norris two years ago; was that why she didn't jump off? She had to ask him; she needed to know the reason why she was still alive.

-What happened last night?" his voice came out colder than he thought, stressing the poor boy who had just woken up.

For Oliver, it wasn't strange that the girl in front of him asked him what happened; he knew those were the effects of Mr. Craig's drinks. However, the way she asked was a very different one from her voice last night. Would she be upset? Will she punish him? He should have left when the rain stopped, he should have ignored the pain and exhaustion and walked away from her, but no, there was nowhere else to take cover from the cold and spend the rest of the night in peace. He would answer her question and leave immediately, maybe... he should have insisted on knowing where The Gold Star was when the effects of the alcohol made her gentler.

No, Oliver didn't deserve kindness, he caused a lot of damage, and he should pay for his mistake. Even being out of that prison... Oliver deserved everything bad that happened to him.

"You helped me escape from some guards," he began to explain in a low voice, fixing his eyes on his hands that were playing between them again "then you went to a cliff, and I... I didn't want to die, I'm sorry. You brought me all the way down here, and then you passed out."

Oliver didn't know if it was necessary to tell her about making a fire because of the cold and pain he felt in the night or the time he spent in the rain enjoying his freedom.

There was a small awkward silence where Chrystal remembered more in detail what happened; that boy looked just like her brothers that were why she had helped him... that and the fact that she found the young man attractive last night. How embarrassing.

"Why were you running away?" she asked, searching for that emerald gaze.

"I was just trying to get money; without money, I couldn't eat."

"Did they catch you stealing?"

She arched an eyebrow; what kind of guy had she crossed paths with?

"No," he shook his head slightly, squeezing his fingers because of his nerves from the interrogation, "they thought I was stealing, but I didn't steal anything; I just asked."

Chrystal stopped with the questions as she saw the boy's vulnerability; he was nervous and terrified; he had ceased playing with his fingers, and now she was sure no blood was passing through them. His shaky and almost null voice, the tense of his shoulders, his clothes, and his extreme thinness were enough for Chrystal to know that nothing dangerous happened.

She remembered his words again; he didn't want to die despite the terrible life he looked like he had had, it was strange, but she felt bad for almost killing him last night. He wanted to live, and she wanted to die, ironic?

"I'm sorry I almost threw you into the cliff with me; I wasn't thinking straight."

Oliver opened his eyes and nearly lifted his head to look at her; he wasn't expecting an apology; that was new. He hastened to nod, letting his guard down a little the girl still had that harsh tone of voice, but with a hint of mercy.

"What's your name? I'm not going to hurt you."

The surprise came back to Oliver, his eyes opened wider than usual, and the tension in his body disappeared almost completely.

"Oliver," spoke his name slowly and lowered his voice further. It was the first time in a long time that someone was interested in knowing his name, making him feel more human.

"Oliver," repeated Chrystal more to herself; she wasn't sure if she had heard right, but when the aforementioned nodded, she knew she was right. An uncommon name just like him.

For a moment, Chrystal felt foolish for attempting to take her own life when there were people like Oliver who lived worse than she did and longed to live. Just for a second, Chrystal felt that way; she had her reasons for dying, just as Oliver had his reasons for living.

"There's hot food and fresh water in my house; it's my way of apologizing to you. Come on."

The girl gets up from the floor, dusting off her clothes, heading for the exit. Hearing no footsteps behind her, she turns on her heels to see the freckled man who finally dared to look up, revealing his eyes.

"Is anything wrong?"

Oliver wasn't expecting any action like Chrystal Daly was talking with him, and it wasn't that he didn't want some food and water, but he wasn't sure he could stand the outside world again. As ridiculous as it seemed to him, being inside that cave gave him the security he was looking for; the forest was pleasant, without so many people, noises, and colors. But if he stayed in that cave, in that beautiful dreamlike tranquility, he would never meet Jack and Annette again, and Mr. Craig would find him sooner or later. He had to be strong, like in fairy tales.

The brown-haired boy shook his head once more and got up slowly, walking slowly to the redhead; he had to regain strength to continue on his way. This time he would ask the girl about The Gold Star.