The Date

It was beautiful that morning, evident early on from the buttery sun glistening through the drawn shades of the sheriff’s home. A warm breeze fluttered over the fields, stirring up the dust laden roads spidering their way through the town, neighbored by colorful shops whose doors remained beckoning and open. Leaves crunched under his boots as Ramuel stepped from the porch of his house, which was hidden behind a grove of pines, secluded from the prying eyes of the town. Seeing his companion up and walking around, Casino - a beautiful paint war horse - whinnied to him.

“Good morning, liege.” Ram cooed to Casino, bending at the waist to tip his hat in a smooth bow. “I’ve got plans this morning. Trail ride for lunch?” The horse snorted, shaking his slim head as if in exasperation.

Leaving the horse with another quick flourish, Ram began his descent to the town. The walk down the worn cobblestone path to Valentine was one that Ram had gone over so often it seemed to be muscle memory.

Last night, Ram had promised the young, wounded collector breakfast, and while it wasn’t specified that it was a date, the sheriff had decided he’d get slightly dressed up for the occasion regardless; if merely ditching his muddied work clothes counted as dressing up. He had meticulously chosen this outfit- a dark vest that hugged his shoulders and ribs, and black pants with boots that lace up the top, finalized with a loose jacket to keep the morning chill at bay. His russet hair was pulled back in a bun under his sun-tanned hat, and he wore his reading glasses on his nose.

Sweat prickled at his skin as Ram lit a cigarette, relishing the relaxing smell of the smoke as he jumped up the stairs of the hotel.

“Here for your man?”

“What?” Ram pulled himself from his racing thoughts, his eyes glancing over the sweet woman at the front desk. Her hair was down today, Ram noted, which was rather unusual.

“The stab victim. He came in last night? Said you got a room for him?” The woman’s lips were drawn in a fine line, though her eyes glinted with amusement.

“Yes, right.” Ramuel forced a smile. “Is he still…”

“Still here, Sheriff. Checked in with me this morning, said he had something to get ready for.” She winked at him. “Room A.23.”

Ram bowed his head, ignoring the heat flooding his cheeks. The two had been close friends and there wasn’t a thought in Ram’s mind that would give the woman such an insult as to believe she didn’t suspect why he was truly there that morning.

The woman didn’t speak again until Ram turned to the long hall at the edge of the desk. “Use protection.” The sheriff shot her a look of utter shock and disgust and her laugh followed him down the corridor as Ram hurried to Law’s room.

He had to steady his breathing as he finally reached the correct door, brushing his fingers over the golden lettering nailed in the surface. It was cool and almost silky under his touch. As he stole himself to knock, the door flew open and something crashed into Ram’s chest. He stumbled back a step before looking down into the wide amber eyes of Law.

“Sir I am so sorry I didn't-” Law gave Ram a sheepish smile, holding his hands up as he stepped back from Ram’s chest.

The collector looked nothing short of stunning, standing in the outline of the sun beating in from the window behind him. He wore a fresh pair of pants, his boots polished and cleaned, and the azure shirt, which still hung on his thin frame. Heat flooded Ram’s cheeks at the memory of last night, his fingers brushing over that skin, over the scars. The sheriff laughed warmly. “It’s alright, Law. Good morning.”

“Good morning!” Law gave Ram a smile that sent butterflies through his stomach. “I was promised a meal, I believe.”

“Good morning, Law. Shall we?”

The two walked down the hall in silence and Ram purposefully ignored the pointed stare of the woman at the front desk, whose mouth was twisted into a knowing smile.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Ram’s words seemed to pull Law from thoughts, his eyes unfocused, as if he were elsewhere.

“A little better. Sore, but all the blood is on the inside this time, which I think is where it should be.”

Ram couldn’t help a smile from pulling at the corners of his mouth.“I suppose that’s a good thing. Say, how’d you find yourself stabbed anyway?”

Something shadowed Law’s gaze and he turned his attention to his steps. “Um.. you saw the scars.” He spoke softly. “A lot of people are hardly as accepting as you were.”

Ram swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. “Right… I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Just you having to deal with that bullshit all the time.”

Law was quiet, and for a moment, Ram thought he’d overstepped, but before he could apologize, the collector gave him a tentative smile. “It’s refreshing to hear someone who thinks that way.”

Ram shrugged. “Seems to me that it's basic human kindness.”

A muscle fluttered in Law’s jaw as he stepped through the saloon doors. “You’d think so.”

The saloon was nothing short of dreary, but the sunlight helped illuminate the room, which was otherwise lit by a single bulb hanging from a post in the center. It was nearly empty this time in the morning, say for two men passed out over the bar, not yet awake to face the consequences of last night’s drinking.

The tune of the melancholy piano drifted through the light chatter of those up early enough to catch breakfast, a tender mix of lullaby and dance.

“It’s not much, but the food’s alright.” Ram motioned for Law to sit at a table. “What would you like to eat?” The sheriff didn’t let his face redden as he noticed the collector’s eyes snagging on his shoulders as he pulled his coat off, draping it over his chair.

“Um, something simple? I don’t need anything fancy.” Law smiled as Ram nodded.

“I’ve got you covered, give me a second to order.” The sheriff didn’t entirely enjoy leaving Law alone at the table, but went up to order two plates of bacon and eggs, and leaned on the bar as he waited. He grimaced at the snoring of the sleeping drunks and flicked the nearest one’s cheek.

He woke with a start and a grunt. “Whattyawant…” Ram rolled his eyes.

“It’s Monday, Louis, get out.”

“Eh?”

"Leave."

Louis mumbled something under his breath as he woke the man next to him and staggered from the saloon like a pair of newborn foals. Ram turned his attention back to the bartender, tapping his fingers on the polished surface.

“Sorry for the wait, Sheriff.” The bartender slid two steaming plates of breakfast across the bar, a smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ram paid and brought the food back to their table, startling Law of thoughts as he set the plate down in front of him. “There you are.” He smiled at the collector. “Best meal in Valentine.”

Light danced in Law’s eyes as he smiled up at him. “Thank you, Ram.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Ram tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the look on Law’s face and the way he spoke his name- not with distaste as many of the other townsfolk did but as if it were something… to be cherished.

He sat down with his own plate, mouth watering at the smell of the fluffy eggs. Steam rose from the dishes and Ram opened his mouth to warn Law of the heat, but found it came too late as Law chewed a burning mouthful quickly, then downed half the glass of water.

“It’s… hot.” Law grumbled and Ram couldn’t help but laugh.

“Careful,” Ram chided. “I can’t patch up your mouth.” He immediately regretted the words as he watched Law’s face blossom red, then felt the same heat on his own. “You know what I mean.” Ram murmured as he took a steadying drink of his water.

For the next few minutes, the only sound between the two of them was the clinking of silverware on their plates and the gentle scuffle of bar goers in and out of the saloon.

“Where are you from?” Ram asked in a gentle voice, wiping his mouth as he finished his meal. “You’re certainly not from Valentine, at least.”

“No, not from this continent at all, actually.” Law smiled. “I was born in Europe, uh Denmark to be exact. Came here when I was young.” Something once more shadowed his gaze and Ram knew better than to pry.

“That must have been an adjustment.”

It wasn’t a question, but Law answered anyway, seemingly glad of the excuse to move past the reason for his move. “Oh, absolutely. Especially because I didn’t know much English at first, I had to learn on the run.”

Ram rested his chin on his hand, smiling as he nodded. “That’s so impressive, you know.”

Once more, a blush spread over Law’s face. “I guess, I’ve never thought of it.”

“It is! Learning an entirely new language just from seeing those around you?” He shook his head. “Astonishing.”

Law grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! I’ve never spoken another language, but I did try to learn Spanish. It never stuck.” Ram chuckled. “All the more impressive.”

“That’s very sweet.”

Ram smiled, his eyes tracing over the soft curves of Law’s face, the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, and the soft glint of amber in his chocolate eyes. He was determined to memorize every feature of that face. Filtered light from the window caught in his blond hair, weaving through like strings of gold.

“What?” Law asked with a smile and Ram realized some time had passed.

“Oh nothing, just thinking.”

“About?”

Having you come undone- “That we’ve finally had some nice weather for the first time in months.” Ram sighed happily, tilting his face back to catch the ray of sun.

Law’s eyes flickered, as if he guessed what Ram was truly imagining. “Perfect for collectable runs, to be honest. The winter months slow business down too much for my taste.”

“I bet. You go year round?”

“Try to! I’ve always liked the solitude of it. Just Apple and I and the world.”

“Does it get lonely?”

“Well I- Until recently, I had someone who would go with me.” Law frowned, casting his gaze down to his plate. “I haven’t been alone like I am now in a while.” He sniffled.

Ram was silent for a moment, studying the sadness etched into every pore of Law’s face. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted me to give up collecting, so I’ve been trying to force myself out, but it’s hard. Being alone like this… it hurts.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Lawrence, but you’re more than welcome to stay here for a while, if it might help?”

Law wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand, blinking away the crystal tears that welled there. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“That’s very kind.”

Ram shrugged, tilting his head slightly as he watched Law. “Have you seen Apple today?” He asked, changing the subject.

Law sighed, grateful for the lifeline. “I went to see her last night and early this morning. She seems good, happy. But I think she worries about me sometimes. It’s been a long time since we’ve been separated.”

“If you want to stay in the stable, I’m sure there's an extra room in the attic.”

“No, I uh have missed a warm bed.” Law gave Ram a sheepish smile, which he returned warmly.

“I’m sure.”

Law cleared his throat as he pushed his empty plate away with a content sigh. “Mmm… that was lovely, thank you, Sheriff.” He hummed, standing up and stretching with a groan. “I need to get back to the hotel, I’ve got unfinished projects.”

Ram was certain those projects were less than legal. “Of course, can I walk you back?” He asked as he stood as well.

Law looked around, taking in the surroundings of the now filled bar. There were a few men that Ram recognized, huddled in the corner, backs hunched over a rigorous game of poker, carefully watched by two delicate women, who talked with each other in hushed voices. In the opposite corner, a hooded figure played the piano with skilled fingers, fluttering over each ivory key with butterfly-like grace.

“Beautiful.” Ram had been so focused on the individual’s playing that he nearly missed Law’s whisper. “In its own way, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just the… monotony of it.” Law heaved a sigh, seemingly shaking off the thoughts that shadowed his eyes.

“I suppose it can be.”

The collector’s eyes lingered on the gamblers and their wives, chatter that dripped of love and banter creeping over to the pair. “Let’s go.” His voice was tight, gaze cast downward as he hurried from the bar.

Ram quickly pulled his jacket from the back of the chair and followed him out. The hot air hit the both of them like a front. “Law.” The collector was a few yards in front of him, still as a post as he looked at something the sheriff couldn’t see. “Christ, are you okay?”

“I-” Law swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he took a shaky step forward. Ram realized that the board of bounty posters had caught Law’s attention. Most of the papers were torn and yellowed with age, outdated and stained by the near constant rainfall that burdened Valentine in the spring months. Still, the faces were recognizable.

Tears blossomed in Law’s chocolate eyes, sparkling as they fell over his cheeks. Tentatively, he reached out a hand, shaking fingers tracing over the skillfully drawn face of one of the portraits before tearing the paper from the board. He held it close to his chest, staring blankly at the spot it had hung.

“Law..?” Ram reached out to place a hand on the collector’s shoulder, but before he could, Law collapsed onto his knees. Bowing his head as he held the poster tightly, choking sobs wracking his entire body. The sound was painful, keening. Tears dripped onto the dust below Law, staining his face. “Fuck!” Ram hissed out, jerking his hand back in surprise.

He looked around, taking in the onlookers who paused to ogle Law, their eyes wide, whispers drifting around them like a breeze. “Hey, buddy.” Ram murmured to Law, kneeling down beside him. “Can I carry you to the hotel?”

Law didn’t reply, didn’t do anything more than clutch at that picture and sob. Ram hesitated slightly, not wanting to cross a line and create a bigger scene, but at the same time, desperately wishing Law and he were somewhere private. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?” Ram murmured to the collector, his voice tender and gentle. Law’s nod was nearly imperceptible.

Ram’s stomach once more twisted at how thin Law was, how easy it was to pull him into his arms. “It’s going to be okay.” He murmured to the collector, who now clutched at his shirt, sobbing against his chest. Ram carried him swiftly the remaining few yards into the hotel, hardly glancing at the woman behind the counter, who cast an alarmed stare towards the pair.

Ram was able to get the door open with little trouble, closing it behind them as he entered the dimly lit room. Setting Law on the unmade bed, Ram lit the small lanturn on the table, which cast a dancing candlelight flame across the walls.

“Thank you.”

The sheriff turned at the weak voice behind him. Law looked at him, poster still pressed to his chest, with eyes that were puffy and red. Tears still streaked down his freckled cheeks, but the worst seemed to be over.

“Are you alright?” Ram sat on the edge of the bed, far enough away to give Law a bit of privacy as he wiped his nose.

“No,” The collector admitted. “But… Thank you. It’s been- been really nice talking to someone again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“That’s okay.”

Silence fell over the pair. Thick and heavy, it permeated from Law’s tears, laying over the unlikely duo like a blanket, smothering any desire for conversation from either of them.

“Ram?” Minutes had ticked by before either of them had spoken.

“Yeah?”

As Ram turned his attention to Law, the collector moved forward, and in seemingly a surprise burst of boldness, pressed his lips against Ram’s.

In that instant, a shock of electricity shot through the circuit of their bodies, connected now as Ram kissed him back. It’s hungry and full of a desire that only grew ravenous as Law pulled away. For a moment, the sheriff was lost for words.

"Oh."