The court was surprisingly empty for a Friday night.

Flickering street lamps, mildew-collecting picnic tables, and swaying basketball hoops was all the court had to offer on such a quiet evening. The sun was still setting in the cotton candy sky, painting a pretty backdrop behind the pacing boy whose hands were stuffed in his pockets. There was no guitar attached to his back that time or a basketball at his hip under muscular arms. She didn't mind it though; she was too busy being distracted by everything that was him, starting with the wavy hair dark hair spilled out from the loose bun to gather over his broad shoulders as he absentmindedly brushed the strands back.

He caught her eyes as soon as she started making her way over from the parking lot. Her Uncle hadn't lived very far from the courts, unsurprisingly. Maybe five minutes tops, which made her two minutes late. Not bad for a girl whose heart felt like it was going to burst the entire ride over. Her fingers were still trembling from holding onto the wheel so tight.

She stopped walking once she was near enough, choosing not to get any closer. She wouldn't be able to think if she was too close. Not when her mind was already struck by how pretty he was under the fading pink and orange colors.

"Thanks for coming. I know you were with your family," he started, then paused to furrow his eyebrows. "But you were avoiding me at school, so I thought you'd prefer some sort of middle ground where we can meet on your own terms."

The corner of Ruth's lip caught her teeth. She hesitated to lie again, trying to convince him that she really wasn't avoiding him, but she was tired of lying about it. But how do you tell someone you're avoiding them because you're jealous of the girl on their arm?

Ruth didn't know.

She didn't know anything other than how fucking amazing it felt to be able to see and talk to him again.

She missed his friendship, as much as she hated to admit it. She missed hanging out with him at school and having their secret moments. But Mirana caught on, and as much as Ruth wanted to be mad at her for intruding, she couldn't blame her. Mirana had him first and she's loved him for who the hell knows how long. It wasn't her place to step in between that.

But what if he's not into her? Like Jana said?

Should she even entertain that thought?

"Why did you want to see me?" she asked quietly, her gaze falling to his wringing hands.

Despite the short time apart, he was starting to look better. He didn't look as sick as he had when his body was fighting nicotine withdrawals, and life started to swim back into the depths of his brown eyes.

But there was something that caught her eye about him that time. Something she hadn't noticed before, at the bonfire.

A white bandage wrapped around the upper part of his muscled bicep with a bruise blossoming beneath it was enough for her to try and forget about Mirana. Raffo, for the moment, was more important.

"What the hell happened to your arm?" she gasped before she could stop herself.

Raffo's expression darkened, his eyes briefly flittering to the bandage peeking out beneath the sleeve of his black t-shirt. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," she scoffed, walking closer to him. Just when she was going to reach out for his arm with her open arms, he pulled it back towards him, moving that side of his shoulder away from her curious touch.

"Damn it, Ruth. That's not why I fucking texted you," he growled under his breath, frustration leaking into his dark gaze.

"Don't curse at me!"

"Fucking hell, I didn't mean to! You just won't let me talk!"

That pissed Ruth right the fuck off.

"Oh, so now you want to talk?" she drawled sarcastically, crossing her arms.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he seethed, glaring heatedly at her.

"It means that you keep saying that I was the one avoiding you. But what about you, huh? You were the one who started it," she all but shouted, her rage the last few days over her confusing feelings finally boiling over.

"I wasn't fucki—I wasn't avoiding you!"

Ruth glared right back at him. "I haven't heard from you since the last time we met here; even before the bonfire. And then at the bonfire you fucking didn't say one word to me, but had the nerve to send Johnny after me because you weren't man enough to check on me yourself?"

Raffo snorted. "You actually believe that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

His expression turned icy. He inhaled a sharp breath of air, his frustration clear cut across his handsome face. Ruth almost found herself getting distracted from the subject at hand because of it, but she held her ground. The hurt that she was trying to hide leaked into her hesitant voice and her fingers were starting to shake with nerves again.

"I wasn't avoiding you," he finally murmured lowly, his voice dark with something she couldn't pinpoint. "I have a lot of shit going on right now that you don't get. Just because I've been busy, it doesn't mean-"

"Busy with Mirana?" Ruth bit out before she could stop herself from saying it. She almost cringed visibly after doing it.

He narrowed his eyes, his tone flat. "What about it?"

She rolled her eyes, her embarrassment dissipating. She pushed herself away from him. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"Where are you going?"

Ruth didn't know. Maybe back to Uncle Rickey's? She was too shaky and sad to do that just yet. She never had a reason to argue with him before, so she didn't know what to make of it just yet. And on top of that, she was mad that she didn't get to find out what he wanted from her.

Wrapping her arms tightly around her body, she tucked her fingers around the extra fabric of her sweater. She hated that coming out here was a bad idea and part of that was her fault. She shouldn't have expected anything from him in the first place, and then she did provoke him a few times. But what did he expect? Her to be happy that he was being an asshole?

"Ruth! Damn it, wait. Please don't go," Raffo pleaded hoarsely.

Ruth stopped walking. His voice . . . it sounded so- so undeniably sad. Terrified. Regretful. Like a scared little boy, begging for someone not to leave because of something he thought he did. It tore her heart in half to hear it.

And he rarely said the word 'please' on top of it.

So she turned around. For the first time ever, she saw a flash of fear cross the browns of his eyes. His fingers nervously brushed his hair back from his face and he tried his best to even out his breathing. He couldn't focus for too long on her before he was looking away like he was deciding whether or not he should tell her—well, something.

"I know I'm an asshole. I told you I was when I quit smoking," he finally murmured. "So just—just please give me a second to talk, okay? I'm not . .  . I'm not good at this shit."

Good at what? She wanted to ask, but didn't. Instead, she took in a deep breath to calm herself and quietly gave him the time he needed to talk; watching him come to her instead that time.

"I've been thinking about it over and over again in my head. About how this is supposed to go, about what I'm supposed to say," he began again. The intensity in his eyes stole her breath away. "I'm not good with these things. And it's all coming out shitty when I don't mean it too. I'm probably not even making sense right now."

The ghost of a smile touched his lips, mirroring the small one on hers.

"You're not," she whispered honestly.

"I know," he admitted, the smile stretching out just a bit more. He watched her closely, his gaze nervous and warm as it scanned her features until she blushed hotly under it. "I guess what I'm trying to say is—"

Raffo paused now. Her eyes widened at the sight of him getting flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck shyly, his cheeks burning russet under the bronze skin. If she wasn't so startled, she would have found it immensely attractive, because it's not very often Raffo Leflore was blushing bashfully.

Who was she kidding, she did find it immensely attractive.

"I don't like Mirana. Not like that," he forced out. "She's my friend."

Though a part of Ruth was obviously relieved to hear those words, she couldn't help the whisper of confusion that followed, "Why are you telling me this?"

He bit his lip. Hesitantly, he searched her face again. "I needed you to know that because I—because I—"

Raffo almost physically choked on the words amid his nervousness.

"I'm sorry I'm not usually so . . . like this," he gestured to himself. "I've never had this much trouble before."

"Raff, it's fine—" Ruth tried to interject, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"I need to say it."

She pursed her lips curiously.

His hand started to rise near her face when he suddenly closed his fingers into a fist, and brought it back down to his side. She froze at the almost action, the shock pumping through her body overwhelming her.

"I need you to know because I don't want you getting the wrong idea about Mirana and me. And it's fucking selfish of me to do this, but I just wanted you to know that I don't like having you mad at me because of her," he breathed out hoarsely, voice tense. "I don't want you to avoid me. Not when you're the only person in this whole fucking world who doesn't annoy me. The only one I can listen to talk about a story for hours while you drink your chai tea lattes, the only one I can have basketball tournaments with because you beat me almost every single time . . . the one who can speak the language of our ancestors, and the one I can play guitar to without feeling stupid."

Life poured into Raffo's eyes, transforming him into another person completely. She had never seen him so—so passionate about something like that. Especially over a person . . . well, over her.

"You treat me differently. Differently than anyone I've ever known," he continued. "You notice every little thing and you worry about me when no one else does in that damn caring way that you do.

"Even now with this bandage on my arm, you didn't care that you were mad at me. You were worried about what happened first, no matter how pissed off you were."

There was another pause now. Sound hollowed out in Ruth's ears as she tried her best to focus on him. But she was getting so caught up in her whirlwind of emotions that she couldn't move. Couldn't move, couldn't breathe, nothing.

"I can't not be around you, Ruth." His words were a little choppier, more vulnerable than he had ever been with her. And it was all because he thought she was going to leave him. "I don't know what it is about you, but I just—I want more of it—more of you in my life. I know you probably hate me still right now, and it would be selfish of me to admit what I want to right now, but just know that I—"

Ruth had no self control when her body agreed to dethaw.

She moved forward on her own accord that time, cutting him off mid-speech as he watched her. Before she could stop herself, she asked him with her eyes if she could touch his face, and when he gave her a small nod, she wasted no time in doing it. Her fingers brushed along the softness of his warm cheek, her thumb skimming the bone as she held his face between her palms. Raffo breathed in sharply, his eyes blinking slowly down at her with a flurry of overwhelming emotion in them.

It wasn't the first time he looked at her like that.

He did the night he sung to her. And when they played basketball together and the day they came up with his withdrawal plan as they laid out underneath the warm sun on a school bench. There was a moment at the bonfire right before she wandered off when he looked at her like that too. It was why he kept trying to catch her eye periodically whenever Mirana was distracted enough, but Ruth misinterpreted who that look was for.

He never wanted Ruth to believe that him and Mirana were a thing.

Because, she realized, he wanted her.

And just didn't know how to flat out say it.

Lucky for him, Ruth had enough strength to do it for the both of them.

She wanted to kiss him and she was confident enough right now to ask him. With the few words he struggled to get out that night, she put two and two together on why he was telling her about Mirana, and that was when she knew that she could do this. She could put her feelings first for once.

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered. There was no fear of rejection in her voice. Only confidence and a need to dismantle the patriarchy.

Raffo drew his hands up towards her face now too. One of his hands battled against the tangled mess of curls to wrap around the back of her neck, while the other came to rest on her cheek softly. Her skin heated under his callused touch, the rough tip of his thumb nearly melting her in place.

He watched her, mesmerized by the flutter of her lashes, the curl of her full lips, the brownness of her pretty eyes; everything that made her perfect to him. And by the flash of adoration, she knew he liked what he saw.

Instead of verbally answering her, he drew her face closer to his, angling it perfectly like he's had years of practice. His thumb caressed her bottom lip and he ran the padding over the flesh with just enough lust to make her shudder. The closer his face came to hers, the more his gaze searched over the confines of her face until his eyes began to blink slow at her, dropping almost all the way closed.

The gum he must have been chewing before she showed up made his breath minty against her lips, no hint of tobacco detected anymore after giving it up. She closed her eyes as Raffo propped her face up with the gentle coaxing of his finger under her chin, the intimacy nearly exploding her rapidly beating heart. He was gentle, patient, enraptured by her and released an intoxicating passion that poured into the moment.

Raffo finally closed the space.

His lips brushed softly against hers. It started off fleeting, just the teasing encouragement of flesh against flesh, breath against breath. He slid his hand under her jaw, dangerously sparking a quick flash of heat into her body as her hands loosened from his face to fall to his chest. His other hand slid down her back, gently but firmly drawing her closer to his broad body.

Ruth's heart was beating excitingly too fast behind her ribcage like a nest of butterflies. Sparks of warmth eased throughout her entire body, her limbs growing weak at the soft way Raffo kissed her. She just—she couldn't get enough of it. His kissing was intoxicating, his plush lips and strong arm around her waist intensifying everything. If only she could stay wrapped up in him forever.

A soft gasp left her lips as he applied more pressure to her lips, moving them expertly with hers. There was an urgency between them now, an aching hunger like they had both been wanting to kiss the other for awhile. Something deep and husky in the back of his throat made her whimper and he suddenly picked her body up.

She laughed breathlessly against his lips. "I'm heavy," she warned, though she wrapped her thick legs around his waist anyway. One of his arms slipped underneath her thighs, supporting her easily.

His other hand dug into her curls, pulling them just a hair's width apart. Lips spilling with crimson, eyes swimming in exhilaration, he never looked sexier to Ruth. "Shut the hell up, Semple."

Raffo slammed his lips back to hers, a moan forcing itself from her bruising lips. Their tongues met in an eloquent dance, swirling and tasting, wrapping and pushing for a never ending battle. She loved the way he kissed her. The way he took his sweet time getting to know her and he liked what he found. He set her down on the picnic table top after walking over, his fingers skimming her face, her craning neck, her curls that he let tumble down her back.

"Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" Ruth breathed, trying and failing to catch her breath.

Raffo laughed at her, the sound freeing for someone as locked up as him. His fingers gently brushed along her cheeks, enjoying the feel of the soft skin there. He looked so relaxed compared to before. Perhaps ever, Ruth thought. "I could ask you the same thing."

She cheekily shrugged, a smile lighting her features. His thumb brushed along her lip. "Practice."

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. The sight of his charming teeth behind puckered lips stole an ovary or two. "Practice, huh?"

"Yep. Wouldn't mind some more though," Ruth winked, reaching up to wrap her arms around Raffo's neck.

"I don't think you need anymore practice." His voice was rough, his gaze dropping back to her pouty lips. Lust flickered back into his eyes, drawn in by the scarlet smirk in his direct line of sight.

"You sure about that?" she whispered, softening her dewy lips purposely. Her fingers stroked the fine hair at the back of his head and he shivered against her. One of his large hands skimmed up her thigh, igniting a tremor of heat in it's wake, before resting at her waist.

"What? You want more?" Something about how he spoke the words made Ruth want to pounce on him. He talked lowly, confidently. And something about the combination was incredibly sexy, matched with the hooded way he watched her.

He teasingly drifted kisses at every corner of her lip, moving just in time to avoid Ruth's impatient turnings of her head to try and kiss him fully again. His knuckles trailed casually along her smooth jaw, almost absentmindedly, like he more than enjoyed her annoyed fluster.

"Tell me," he cooed along her cheek.

Ruth's hands now gripped his waist impossibly tight. He tilted her neck back as he peppered tantalizing kisses along the silk of her neck. So caught up in him, she almost forgot her damn name.

"I—I want—" she started, her voice slackened. His fingers smoothed over the entanglement of curls cascading to her waist, wrapping the tips around his hand. He was anywhere and everywhere, making it harder for her to think up a proper sentence.

"Nanta chi bvnna?" The words were faint against her jaw now.

The blur of the sunset flashed like heaven across her starry gaze. She melted further into him and he easily gathered her up. His lips hovered over hers, patiently waiting for her to answer his question as he hungrily gazed into her eyes.

She slowly blinked up at him, her long lashes shielding her eyes as she stared at his taunting mouth. When she finally spoke, she purposely moved forward just a little and traced the word against his parted lips.

"Chi," Ruth murmured, her whisper loud in the quiet of the evening.

Enamored, he gave into her, unable to hold himself back any longer at such an elegant request.

*****

notes: translation (from choctaw to english)

♡ nanta chi bvnna? - what do you want?

♡ chi - you