I set the photo of Mum on the coffee table and laid on the couch, staring at it. I wanted to vanish at that moment and go back in time. I think if I had one wish then I'd choose that.

"Who's that?" I tilted my head. CC was leaning on the headrest, staring at the photo.

"My Mum." I murmured.

He nodded and I took the opportunity to really look at him. He was young, but perhaps a few years older than me. His parents must be worried sick. Did they know what their son was up to
right now? He wasn't wearing a mask and his hair was tied back and covered by a black beanie.

"Where's your mum?" I asked, and he smiled.

"She died." He said, shifting and then looking away.

"I'm so sorry. Were you very close to her?" I murmured.

There was a reluctance to answer the question and it made me very curious about him. It seemed like it'd be easier to get through to CC. He seemed more open and cheerful. He'd been fairly sympathetic towards me.

"No, we weren't close. She died when I was four," He said, sighing. "I wish I could pin point an exact memory of her, but I can't."

He stepped back and walked over to the kitchen. The work surfaces were dirty and covered in boxes, some of which were filled with pizza and various other foods. I sat up and made my way over.

"I could clean the flat a little, if that's all right?" I smiled.

"Well, yeah you could do. We'll probably move on soon." He replied.

"Move on?" I said, confusion taking over.

"Yeah, this flat isn't legally ours. It belonged to a meth addict, but he had to go away for a while."

Ok, that sounded vaguely sinister. My face must have been a mask of pure horror as he shrugged and continued with what he was doing. I leaned closer, watching him building something. My gut instincts told me it was a bomb.

I wasn't about to offer to build a bomb so I started tidying. The lounge area really wasn't too bad. It was just cluttered with old magazines and books. I found a wash cloth and cleaning supplies. Some of the bottles were half empty, but I wasn't going to think about what a meth addict had done with the solutions.

I stacked all the magazines up and cleaned the kitchen. It looked a lot better when I'd finished. Across the way was a small toilet. It was cleaner than the rest of the flat. I tidied in there and lowered the toilet seat. Guys were so gross sometimes.

I debated on whether I should enter the two bedrooms. I had no intention of invading their privacy. I finished cleaning and opened the cupboards, frowning at the distinct lack of food or ingrediants. I nudged CC and he stopped working to look at me.

"We have no food." I said, as though I was breaking the saddest news possible. This seemed to amuse him as he laughed.

"Well, duh. We don't exactly go for a weekly shop." He smiled, setting down a screwdriver.
"I could go and get food. I promise I'll come back."

I was seriously hoping cleaning the flat that we would soon be leaving would be enough to convince CC. He raised a dark brow at my begging.

"You'll try and escape." He said. Not wanting to deny or confirm it, I shrugged.

He glanced across at Ashley's bedroom door and then back to me. I was hoping that I'd made him see sense.

Small victories were the best because I was allowed to the shop, but only if CC went with me. The shop was a small corner shop with no security camera's and a huge bear of man sat behind the cash desk. He eyed us suspiciously.

I had packed my purse yesterday, as well as my bank card so I'd have a months worth of money to buy things. The man behind the desk scanned the shopping and he smiled a little when I was polite to him.

"Have a good day." He said, gruffly.

We left the shop, bags in hand. The flat may have been gross, but there was a fridge and an oven. I found a kettle in one of the cupboards. The oven worked and I couldn't help but cheer a little.

"The oven works." I smiled at CC.

"Awesome." He reached over, high fiving me.

I cooked some chicken curry and set a plate near where CC was working. He smiled and I glanced at the bedroom across the way.

"Don't let him scare you." CC said, and I looked back to him.

"He threatened to break my neck." I murmured.

"He wouldn't hurt you. Ashley isn't like that." He replied, setting the tools down and picking up a fork.

I sighed and made the long walk from the kitchen to the bedroom. I tapped on the door and then opened it slowly. The walls were all bare, except for the wall near the bed. It was covered in various newspaper clippings. I stared at them all, struggling to absorb all the information.

"What do you want?" Ashley was sat on the bed.

In front of him was another device. My eyes went from the wall to him. I tried and failed to meet his gaze.

"I made some dinner. Thought you might be hungry." I walked over, setting the plate down.

His eyes followed my movements then he smirked. He could have been anything. A model. A rockstar, seriously anything, but he chose to be a terrorist. Who in their right mind wakes up one morning and decides that?

"So, how are you?" I asked.

"Do you really care?" He snapped, setting the tools down.

"Yeah, of course. If I didn't care I wouldn't ask." I shuffled nervously.

"Or you feel obligated to ask. I'm not what you'd deem to be normal so you pity me." He replied, staring into my very soul with those dark eyes.

"I don't care who you chose to be. I ask because I care." I whispered, stepping back slightly.

"If we're done having a group therapy session then you can leave." He shot back.

Wow, someone's cheerful. I nodded, meekly. I left the room, closing the door and sitting on the couch again, eating my food. I felt the couch shift as CC sat down next to me.

"That curry was amazing. You'll have to teach me to cook." He smiled.

"Yeah, that sounds like fun."


*************************

Night rolled round and I spent the rest of the day, staring at the tv. No one had really noticed I was missing yet. They'd notice on Wednedsay when I didn't turn up for uni and when I didn't show up for my evening shift at work.

"Here, you can use this as a blanket." CC handed me a cover.

It smelt clean. It was decorated with flowers and roses. I got the sense that the guy who owned this flat had someone looking out for him. That person had obviously bought this blanket for him.

"Thanks, it's pretty." I said, cuddling up under it.

It got really late and I turned off the tv, rolling onto my side to go to sleep. The other night sleep came easy because of how tired and fraught my nerves were. Tonight I was just laying there, staring at the worn fabric of the couch.

I twisted round to look at my photo of Mum and I sat up. The only light was coming from the street lamps and I felt a little scared about being on my own in the lounge. I got up and went to the first door, opening it.

CC was asleep. I felt bad for disturbing him so I bit the bullet and went to the other door. I opened it slightly. Ashley was still awake. He had removed his jacket and was still working on the device. His eyes shot up when he saw me in the doorway.

"What?" He snapped.

"I-i can't sleep." I said, and he frowned.

"What do you want me do about that?"

"Nothing, really. C-can I stay in here with you?" I regretted asking almost immediately.
His glare pierced through me and left me feeling very vulnerable. I was tempted to turn and run from the room.

"Yeah, you can stay. Shut the door." He said, shocking me.

I nodded and walked over, sitting on the bed. He shifted over and I sat a little closer. I watched him working and he shifted on the bed to face me. What was he doing?

"Here, screw this part." He said, handing me a small screwdriver.

I did as I was told and he watched. My palms were sticky. I wasn't used to someone watching me this closely. The screwdriver slipped and I held my breath, waiting for him to shout at me, but he caught my hand in his.

My eyes shot up and he met my gaze, smirking, coyly. I sensed that underneath the harshness, Ashley was quite funny and friendly, but his entire world view had been warped for some reason.

His hands were calloused and I supressed the urge to shiver when he dragged his thumb across my knuckles. He seemed to remember what he was doing and picked the device up. He got up and set it on the desk.

He turned round and gripped the hem of his t-shirt. Oh god, he was not doing what I thought he was doing. Holy crud, he was. The t-shirt came off and my eyes went to the ceiling. I heard the floorboards creak and my eyes went to him again. Big mistake.

He was toned and his arms were covered in tattoos. Across his stomach was the word 'outlaw'. He dragged a hand through his hair and seemed to notice my flushed face and very nervous expression.

That same devious grin appeared on his face as he crossed the room, leaning towards me. His hand clasped my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Does this bother you?" He asked, tone slightly deeper.

"N-nope, not at all." I said, cringing.

My body didn't follow my words because I pressed myself against the wall. He pulled back and got on the bed, leaning over and turning the lamp off.

I lay down and took a few steadying breaths. I whimpered when his arm wrapped round me, pulling me closer.

"I heard you crying in your sleep last night." He said, by way of explanation.

I gulped and turned to face him, cuddling closer. His hand threaded through my hair.

"Hm, you're so soft." He murmured.

I smiled at that. He was being so sweet now. He seemed too tired to be stuck-up with me. I would savour this moment.

Notes