Time passed slow, the sun inching its way higher in the sky searing the asphalt and rooftops beneath it, the day dragging its feet. The air in the small apartment hung like a blanket, thick and hot, smothering the two beneath it. Frank sat a box fan on the floor facing the bed, wiping his wet brow before plugging it in the wall where it whirred to life.

She hadn't moved, she lay still and warm beneath his heavy coat feeling the fast moving barely cool air slide across her damp face ruffling strands of her dark hair. Her eyes followed his figure as he silently walked back out of the room, his shadow visible through the paper stapled to the frame of what was supposed to be a wall. She tensed, her shoulders drawing in, at a loud scrape of metal on wood and then his heavy boots thumping on the floor as he circled back.

Catching her eye he set the chair inches from the bed, close enough to feel the air but far enough she kept still. And then he left her again, feeling her gaze crawling over his back as he retreated to grab a case. He set it at her feet seeing her jump at the harsh click of the latch as he opened it, and at the sight of the rifle she damn near disappeared from how far she curled in on herself. Without a word he took a seat with the weapon held across his lap, looked up often and held her stare til she looked away, that or he found her asleep. He'd fall still at the sight of her closed eyes, as if any movement might wake her, and he'd just stare. If he had to guess, and all he could do was guess, he'd say she was twenty-five at most and middle to low class given how thin she was. Even then, with how few years she'd seen, he could see the lines around her eyes from how often she smiled. It left him wondering if she'd be able to smile again, but before he could make any promises to himself about seeing her smile he'd turn back to his weapon with a deep frown.

She dozed in and out the rest of the afternoon, her mind jolting at a sudden noise from him before the stifling air had her eyes growing heavy. Once, with the sun dipping low in the sky casting everything in a deep golden hue, she'd opened her eyes to find him sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands folded together over his lap as he leaned back in the chair. From the way his head stayed firmly upright she knew he wasn't actually asleep, only resting his eyes. His brows were still drawn together, his mouth still stern - she wondered if he always looked so mean.

With a much clearer head she turned to the splintered bedside table to see a glass of water he'd set for her, and she gladly rolled onto her stomach and began guzzling. Wiping the trail of water that'd dripped down her chin she noticed the two small white tablets sitting beside a water ring where the cup had been sitting. "What are these?" she asked holding them in her palm.

Without opening his eyes he mumbled, "oxy."

She nodded as though it made sense, as though any of it sense. And she stared at the pills wondering why he was trying to knock her out, she'd given up his hurting her because so far he'd had every chance to, what she ended up with was he wanted to leave and she could either take it or be tied up. Reaching that conclusion she raised her hand to her mouth dropping the tablets on her tongue, took a gulp of the lukewarm water, and threw her head back swallowing.

"Good girl," he said before climbing to his feet. Out of habit he stepped to her side and took the glass setting it back on the table before pulling the covers over her shoulders. It wasn't until he looked down at her sweet face that he remembered this wasn't his girl, she wasn't his kid. But this woman, this Ava Reilly, she wasn't lookin at him scared out of her mind anymore - she was just quiet. Confused.

She watched him turn away, raising a hand to rub his jaw as he threw the gun in the case and snapped it shut. "Why'd you save me?" she asked on a reckless whim, stilling his large heavy feet.

Slowly turning from where he stopped by the door he found her propped up on an elbow, her dark hair gathered on her shoulder tickling her chin. All he could think was that she had to know, she seemed like a smart kid there was no way she couldn't know what would've happened had he not. "They weren't gonna stop," he told her, his eyes hard and unforgiving – as if she'd done anything wrong. "No one, was gonna find you. They'd of kept usin you til they got tired or you weren't as pretty cause some guy bruised that nice face of yours cause you wouldn't stop crying," he seethed nearly spitting. "So they'd sell you to someone who didn't mind a few bruises cause he had worse planned. Some sick fucker who'd carve you up. And even if someone could recognize you they wouldn't want you anymore. Then, then you'd get to die." He gave a short, bitter, hateful laugh as he looked from the window to the bed. "And they'd probably try sellin your," his sudden burst of words died in his throat at the tears in her eyes. He was left in the silence his harsh voice had created staring at her horrified face, mouth gaping eyes widened and glistening. His face twisted in a wince as he looked away.

"The black market," she said softly sniffing, "that's what you were gonna say." She watched him press his lips together giving a quick nod, eyes still on the wall. Nothing he'd said was untrue, was anything she hadn't already known for herself, but to hear it so unapologetically spoken aloud – and it was clear on his irritably upset face that he regretted saying it. "I read this thing on facebook," she said as she took the weight off her elbow and laid on her back. "bout how you're not really worthless cause your organs would go for a lot on the black market." She stared at the dim ceiling growing darker with each passing minute as the sun slowly sank further below the horizon. In a hushed whisper she said, "I thought it was funny at the time," before rolling onto her side facing the fan.

Frank looked at where her small body lay half curled giving a breath of a laugh, finding he was right about her being strong – at least of will. He moved to the bed sitting where her waist bent with his back to her staring at his hands. He was quiet a good few moments, weighing his words and this time choosing more carefully. "I don't know what you had to do to get out, but when I saw you last night so close to getting yourself free." He stared at his hands watching the light make its way down his skin til only a shadow was left in its place. Looking up at the wall like it might have the answers for him he shook his head sighing before turning to look at where she lay staring at him quietly. "I figured you'd had enough," he told her honestly, not seeing any change in her thoughtful face as she let her eyes roam over every inch of his features.

She decided then he'd been telling the truth about not hurting her, intentionally at least because she'd been watching him most of the day and came to realize any softness he had in him was what she was seeing. It didn't mean she wanted him sitting as close as he was but she didn't feel his nearness crawl under her skin like it had before. "What's your name?" she asked quietly as she glanced over his shadowed face.

"Frank," he answered without hesitation, thinking she at least deserved that much.

The curling of her mouth wasn't so much a smile as it was a twitch of her cheek, but it was as much as she was comfortable giving so he silently took it. "Thank you."

His shoulders dropped with his next exhale as he nodded, resting a large hand on her small shoulder in a gesture of friendliness – a gesture that fell short coupled with his disagreeable demeanor. "G'night Ava," he told her, his voice a gruff breath. He waited for her eyes to close, looking for anyway to escape from him, and with it the last of the light was smothered under the horizon.

She fell asleep slowly listening to the dull thumps of his boots on the floor as he gathered his things, the hum of the streetlight outside the bedroom window vibrating inside her head, jolting her back into consciousness with each sudden burst of a car horn or someone yelling on the streets below. Until all at once she was asleep, and he returned to the back room to find she had a faint rumbling snore. It made him smile, almost.