Youth Knows No Pain

'Cause I confide in wolves at night
I'm like a virgin losing a child

3:22am

Once midnight rolled around, The graveyard shift became such a stupid shift sometimes. Thursday nights only staggering in the few patients with hypochondriac conditions and mild allergic reactions that a simple Cetirizine could fix.
"5ml q6h prn"

The buzz echoed throughout the nurses station as Ruthy resisted the urge to repeatedly smash her face into the wooden desk. She bit her tongue, shaking with rage as she fought back the words that wanted to slip through her lips. Ruthy Bernadette Morgan was not ready to rekindle the past. Especially, explain to a man she hasn't seen in six years and explain why she ended up the way she did.

"Yes?" she asked quite rudely through the intercom. A soft tired voice begged for a bottle of water. Ruthy wasn't foolish, she was not looking for a conversation about the unborn child in her belly (abdominal to be more specific) nor was she looking to explain her self as to where she disappeared off too after Sixth Form.

3:27am

"It's weird seeing you not the little petite girl in my art class." He told her innocently, surprising her by his memory despite his current condition. Ruthy's lips stayed permanently shut, her jaw never relaxing, and her eyes averted very carefully to her feet. What other signs could she possibly give this blue-eyed monster that was she not interested. Tom sat alone on the white cot. His feet swung back and forth in a poor effort to entertain himself. The large group he seemed to have arrived with departed long ago.

Ruthy had no time to allow the same man to approach her in such a friendly manner now, tell her it's weird. She had no words to share with him, no happy stories or times to reminiscent upon. She hated this guy. She held a grudge, she should hold a grudge. Ruthy turned on her heel. She'd quickly decided to beg one of the other nurses to swap rooms with her. Although Ruthy couldn't really blame Tom for putting her in the situation she was in now, no, she couldn't, but it wasn't really a situation, was it? It was more of a saving grace. It got her out of the UK right?

6:04am

"Can we have a proper chat?"

-Tom

Pacing your apartment
Linoleum floors
Get a call from an old friend
She never liked them before

-A month later-

"Ruth, what the fuck are you doing?" The deep American voice asked her. His hair disheveled and his eyes blood shot from the lack of sleep. The plaid green comforter falling from his chest, as she pushed another one of his boxes towards the front door of her apartment. Ruthy ignored his rude question, her red hair tied up in a messy bun, as a small layer of sweat glistened across her forehead. The bulge in the center of her hips stuck out a little more, the small slice of skin peeking through her long-sleeved H&M sweater that was reaching the final strands of life. 

A white basket filled with his clothes sat patiently behind her, as she struggled to move the box closer to the door. The man shot up from the couch, that he seemed to be moved too from the safety of his room. 

"What. Are. You. Doing." He asked again, more sternly, as he grabbed her arm trying to get her attention. The brown-eyed girl looked up at him. 

"It's what we agreed upon. You. out." She stated back blankly, her focus turning back to the boxes and basket of clothes. 

"I'm not leaving you here alone with this child. It's our child." He fought back, trying to squeeze his oversized body into the space between her and the box of clothes. She shook her head as he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her tightly into his embrace. Her forehead pressing into his neck as he tried to soothe his crying woman. Ruthy was like melted wax in his hands. He pressed his lips lightly to her temple. 
"It was a mistake." he whispered reassuringly. "I love you Ruthy, and only you." 

----

Ruthy unwrapped the scarf from her neck, draping it over the wooden chair along with her red petticoat. The black wool sweater and jersey knit leggings shielded her from the brisk New York cold. She smiled tiredly at the Barista as he dragged his feet over to her chai tea latte with extra froth to her small table. Ruthy wrapped her small hands around the mug, taking in the warm scent that seemed to ignite through her body. 
It wasn't long before the chair in front of her pulled back and the blue-eyed man from her past  sat down. His blue eyes resembled winter, winters in New York, when the snow has been left untouched and covers the grass in such a graceful dusting. 

"Why do you want to see me so badly?" she asked. Her gaze peering up at him from her mug. Her dyed red bangs braid along her forehead, her make up free skin again showing him how much she truly did not care for his opinion (anymore). 

"I feel like I should apologize." He started, his own accent mirroring hers. Ruthy already had enough. She was not here for a pity party. She turned, exposing her protruding stomach as she grabbed her scarf, rewrapping it around her neck. 

"I don't need an apology." she stated blatantly, standing up. Tom followed suit. He let out a small inaudible groan as if he were face palming himself for being such an idiot (which he was). 

"Ruthy, stop. I'm trying to talk to ya, I won't be in New York for much longer. You're just so-" 
Her own brown eyes bore into him. The diamond ring that glistened became more apparent than ever. Tom's eyes nearly falling out as his mouth became agape. 

Ruthy sat back down, her hands protectively falling back down to her stomach, interlocking her fingers under the nest. Her big eyes stared expectingly at her. 

"You were my first Tom, but you will never be my last." she finally spoke. Her lips trembled along with her hands. She refused to look up from her tea, as her eyes began to glass over. 

Tom folded his hands together, taking in what she said. 

"Look where that attitude got you." he finally bit back. Standing up dropping a couple crumpled bills onto their table as he stormed out of the coffee shop. 

Tom's feet slammed angrily against the pavement. His fists balled into his jacket pockets. It was starting to snow again in the busy city. The scenery so picturesque. He only continued to get angry at himself. 

He humiliated her. He broke out of his shell before she did. He abandoned her. He made her leave. No he forced her to leave. But he searched for her. 

Flashbacks of the night forcing to enter his brain in painful waves and emotional stabs. 

He shut his eyes tightly trying to block out the images of their past.

 Tom was being selfish. He made it through the lobby of his hotel building, stomping and shaking off the snow that collected on his walk back. 

Tom shoved the plastic key into the door of his room, dropping himself face first onto his temporary bed. He let the tears collect and fall. 

Ruthy bit her lip trying to stop the crumbling effect he had her. The past was such a sensitive subject, her especially. Ruthy flagged down a cab, letting it usher her back to the loft. 

Ruthy dragged her sore feet up the steps to the door of her home. She kept trying to shake off Tom's remark. She was done and over it. She had her life starting. Her real life. The one with a family, a small family, but her own family. 

She greeted the now well groomed man that sat on the floor of their sitting room. A screwdriver in hand as he fussed with the white bassinet they purchased from Ikea. 

Ruthy smiled, peeling off her coat and setting it onto the sofa. The blue button-down shirt that hugged his body and the khakis suited her new life. And she loved this new life. 

"Hey." she smiled, waddling over to sit next to him. He smiled warmly at her, pressing his lips lightly to hers before going back to putting together the bed. 

"How was it?" he asked, dropping the instruction sheet into his lap, leaning against the sofa cushions. His arm stretching out to pull her closer to his side. 

"Ezra." She started, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I love you." She pressed her lips to his cheek forgetting about the silly fight they only had nights before.