I got so caught up with this story and I'm so happy the way it's going. Also, thanks for giving me a chance of writing this. Enjoy ^.^
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I opened my eyes, my whole body once again shaking, while I was breathing heavily. I quickly checked my hands, but they weren't covered in blood like in my dream. I tried to fight back new tears, when I looked around.

I wasn't back home, laying in the bed in completely unfamiliar room. I tried to put a few pieces of puzzle together, realizing what happened.

Gregory is dead. Luke.

I slowly stood up, instantly falling down with no strength in my legs. I shook my head how pathetic I had to look. The door opened immediately, and I saw my bodyguard.

"Ryan."

He walked towards me, helping me up. He looked worried, concerned. I sat down on the bed, my fingers refused to let go of him. I looked up at him, my vision blurred by the tears once again.

"Don't cry, please," he whispered silently.

He sat down next to me, hugging me once again. I hated myself how weak I was right now, like a small kid, but I felt hopeless and so terrified.

"Sorry about this. I will stop being such a weakness," I mumbled into is chest, feeling him sigh.

"You're not weak. You saw somebody die in your arms. Your reaction is not a sign of weakness, Ryan," he whispered, while I tightly closed my eyes.

"It is. I should have done something. I should have helped him. Somehow, anyhow!" I protested, when he let go off me and I looked up at him.

"The weakness would have been when you would stay there and they would have captured you. But they didn't. You escaped, you survived," he tried to sooth me down.

"Have you ever seen somebody die in your arms?" I asked out of nowhere.

I had a feeling I saw pain in his eyes, before it disappear as quickly as it came.

"I have. So let me tell you that you did incredible job. You were strong, not weak," he slowly smiled at me, but I felt this was just a mask.

"Do these pictures disappear some day? I see him. In my dreams, when I close my eyes," I asked him, wishing to hear only the best news.

"They won't. The only thing left for you to do is to learn how to live with them. And try to avoid the same fate for other people," he replied, and I was really grateful he was honest.

"How did you learn to live with them?" I asked again, desperately trying to get rid of them.

"I'm focusing on the beautiful things in this world, memories I have, people I know. Now go back to sleep."

I sighed, getting back under the duvet. I tried to remember him, before I closed my eyes. Forcing my mind think about my father or about him, I tried to avoid seeing Gregory again.

"Don't go anywhere," I mumbled, looking for his hand.

He helped me out, and I felt his hand gently holding mine. A warm feeling filled my heart, and I feel more relaxed.

"I'll be right here."

When I woke up again, I was alone in the room. I remembered how I childishly held his hand, just to feel protected and safe, and I wanted to die.

Getting off the bed, I felt much better than during the night. I carefully stood up, this time successfully standing. I slowly walked out of the room, when I smelled food and heard noises from the room across of me.

I walked through the hallway, opening the door to the kitchen. Luke was currently washing the dishes, while I recognized the smell.

Lasagna!

"Morning," I greeted him, sitting down.

"Afternoon. The lunch is going to be ready in a few minutes," he informed me, but stayed focus on the dishes.

"Do you need any help?" I asked, when he shook his head.

"No need. You're the guest here."

Right. I haven't even thanked him yet.

"Thank you," I whispered, wishing to see his face again.

"What for?" He finally turned himself, looking at me.

"Well, for the talk yesterday. Helped me out a lot. And for coming back for me to the shopping center and for this treatment."

"Don't sweat it," he smiled, turning back to the oven.

He pulled out the lasagna, putting them on the table. My stomach growled loudly, making me realize how hungry I was.

"It's hot, eat it slowly," he informed me, handing me a plate and fork with a knife.

Yes, mum.

I couldn't wait for the taste of it. He put a piece of it on my plate and I saw a chees slowly melting down. When I took a bite, after few seconds of breathing on it, I thought every senses exploded. It was so delicious.

"I've talked with your father," Luke started, while I silently moaned how good the food was.

"He's sending you another bodyguard to look after you," the older man continued, while I stopped in everything.

"Wait, what?" I whispered confused.

"Phill is one of my good friends from the army. He's really good, you don't have to worry about anything," Luke answered me, and I felt suddenly so down.

But I want you back! I feel safe with you.

I lost the taste, stabbing the fork into the food. There was a few seconds of silence.

"I put too much salt, didn't I?" He said, pointing at my behavior.

"No, the food is great. I'll call my father," I whispered, feeling tears forming in my eyes.

What did I expect? After how I talked to him back home?

"There, use my phone," he handed me his phone, and I quickly walked back to the only room I knew here.

I sat down on the bed, fighting the tears back. I didn't know why I cared so much to have him by my side again. He was just another man, looking after me. I dialed my father's number, shaking my head to get rid of the weird feeling in my throat.

"Luke! How's he?" My father asked quickly.

"Hi, dad," I whispered.

"Ryan! Oh my god! I'm so glad you're alive. How are you feeling?" He asked me, and I focused on his voice, when a picture of Gregory wanted to show up.

"I'm better, much better. I'm sorry how I was behaving," I apologized, but I knew I should have said this to the man in the kitchen.

"The only important thing is that you're safe. Don't worry about anything. I found you a new bodyguard. His name's Phill Rogers. He's a commander in the army. Luke recommended him and I trust his instincts," my dad said something I already knew.

"Dad... I don't want Phill," I whispered, looking down at the duvet.

"You need somebody to look after you. You saw what happened the last time."

He reminded me Gregory again, and I couldn't stop the sob so quickly escaping my mouth. I hugged my knees.

"Ryan, Phill is the best choice here. I'll tell him not to intervene with your life too much. I'm sure he'll understand," my dad tried to sooth me.

"I want Luke," I whispered, biting down my lower lip to stop my tears.

"What?"

It seemed I surprised my father, which only confirmed my theory, that I was desperate. But after seeing Gregory died, I wanted to feel protected. And Luke was giving me that feeling.

"I want Luke to look after me," I repeated again, looking at the door.

"Son, that's not your decision anymore. I already asked Luke when he brought you back to his place. He refused but he recommended Phill."

He refused. He doesn't want to look after me. Because I was acting like a baby? Because he doesn't want to waste his time with me? I fucked up.

I was surprised by my own thoughts, feelings, towards the older man. I wiped off my tears and nodded my head.

"Alright. But where am I going to live now? I can't return back home."

"You'll stay at the new apartment near the school. Phill and the others are already setting the place up," he informed me.

"What about Bernard?" I asked, remembering the promise I gave Wildcat.

"Still looking for him. Nobody saw him at the airports, which is good news. We're still waiting for his drugs to start selling in the streets," my dad replied.

"Love you," I whispered, knowing I should have returned Luke's phone back and get mine.

"Love you too, son. Can I talk to Luke now?"

"Of course."

I stood up, walking back to the kitchen. Luke was still eating, but he raised his eyes to look at me. I handed him his phone back, returning back to my new room.

I'll show Luke that I don't care about his decision. I'll show him I'm not a weak cry baby who found a happy place in his arms.