Lilith's word should keep them separated — she's effective like that. If not her word, then her goons should at least keep tabs on Ruby, seeing as she's apparently so important.
But she makes it to Bela's next motel room. Bela wakes up from her nightmares with Ruby's icy breath on the back of her neck, Ruby's arms wrapped around her… And she can't think of any words that would make explaining the situation easier.
So she doesn't. She lets it alone, leaves the questions of where she's been and what happened there and is everything okay hanging in the air between herself and Ruby, unanswered and barely acknowledged as they hit the road. She lets Ruby pick the music — inexplicably, she throws on one of Bela's recordings of Aida— and they don't talk for several hours.
When they stop for gas, Ruby's questions start up again and not all of them get ignored — Bela gladly tells her where Crowley's sent her this time, what she's supposed to steal and from whom… But Bela can't find a reason why one of their times together should end up spoiled. It's not like they have that long.
Besides, it's not a matter of honesty: Ruby's kept any promises she's made, but even so, she's a demon. Bela just lies to everyone, regardless of who they are or why she has to do it. What matters is what they make of the time Bela has left. What matters is that Ruby swears she knows some kind of way to circumvent demonic contracts, get Bela off the hook and out of Lilith's claws.
What matters is that, when they get to the motel that they're calling home tonight, Ruby lays Bela down and stops asking where she got the new wound that's on her side, who did it and with what. She unwraps Bela's bandages, applies some salve she made herself with some laundry list of magical properties. And once the wound's been treated, she covers it up again. She pretends it's not there. She kisses Bela gently, with a kind of care that no one else would bother wasting on someone who's got less than a year left on this godforsaken planet.
She takes Bela's ankles, nudges her to the edge of the bed, and tugs at Bela's panties as though being too rough might break them. She eases Bela open, applies her tongue with a similar care, a craftsman's deftness and attention to detail… Even when finding Bela's clit doesn't take her long, Ruby doesn't take this as some indication that her work's done here and that all she needs to do is assault this one spot. She licks at every surface, tongues deeper than she ought to be able to reach. Slips her nails in here or there, applying pressure enough to make Bela gasp but not to draw blood. She doesn't bite at Bela's clit, but catches it between her teeth and plays with it so sweetly, puts time and effort into making Bela's heartbeat race, into riling her up, into making her moan, gasp, whisper, Please, Ruby, please…
But what matters most is not this encounter, or the fact that Ruby can disappear for days but always, always, comes back. It's not even the mixed releases that flood Bela's body — the rush and momentary pain of her tension working itself out, the warmth of a pent-up orgasm, the chill that accompanies everything Ruby does.
What matters most — what's always mattered most — is that Bela gets knocked down and doesn't stay there. That she might not always land on her feet, but that she claws her way back to standing anyway.