Disclaimer: Thir13en Ghosts belongs to Steve Beck.

Claimer: I own Natalie Hayes, DeSoto, Bella, & Jasmine Michaels.

Chapter#2: Hope

"You what?!" A young woman, roughly Natalie's age, gawked at her with wide, coffee brown eyes. She was a close friend of Natalie's, literally the only person she knew in this town. They had been talking about ideas for a new book over coffee, when Natalie had mentioned she'd stopped at the Mahoneys' after her car had broken down. Her coffee-skinned friend, Jasmine, had appeared neutral at first, only expressing some concern over the car, but when Natalie mentioned Horace the curly-haired woman had nearly spewed a mouthful of hot coffee across the room.

"Why is everyone so dramatic about this?"

"You saw him? You talked to him?" Jasmine's large eyes widened even more.

Natalie knew her annoyance showed in her expression. "Is that really so weird?"

"Honey, considering you don't live around here, I'll explain it to you. People fear that man, and they fear him for a reason."

"And what reason is that?" she snapped. "He's big, but he's not the freaking Hulk, Jasmine. You people act like he's some sort of vicious monster. The talk I've heard is incredible."

"Well, can you blame us?" the darker-skinned woman exclaimed. "He never comes out of that junkyard."

"Yeah, well I think he'd like to," Natalie muttered bitterly into her cup.

Jasmine tilted her head at her, curls swaying to the side with the motion. "What do you mean?"

"James seemed pretty intent on keeping me away from Horace. He made it seem like he was this big, mean dude. The second he was gone, I went looking for his son. You know the only reason he doesn't let anyone see the guy is because of the way he looks."

"Well, can you blame him?"

"Yeah, I can!" Natalie set her with a disbelieving stare. "Jasmine, I can't believe you just said that!"

"He's scary!"

"Have you ever even seen him?" Natalie challenged.

The woman held her gaze for a moment, but then her coffee eyes fell to the table.

"Then how the hell can you make any judgments?" she snapped.

"Look, I've heard enough to be afraid of the guy, okay? Everyone talks about him the same way!"

"Yeah, and I bet none of them have even so much as bothered to say hello to the guy!" Natalie argued. "I, for one, took the time to speak to him. At first, yes, I was a bit taken aback by his size and appearance. He's a rough guy, but I did not get vicious or mean from my encounter with him."

Jasmine's eyes fell to her coffee, fingering the ceramic handle with her thumb as she swirled the contents around inside. She was quiet for a moment. "…What was he like?" she finally asked, after a long minute of silence.

Natalie took a sip from her cup, lifting one of her hands in a shrug as she did so. "He was totally fine. I found him in the garage. He was wearing one of those metal masks, because he was using a blowtorch." She proceeded to tell her friend about her experience at the Mahoneys' junkyard, and how she had come to meet Horace and see his face. She explained how shy he had been, putting extra detail into the look in his eyes when he had caught her staring. By the time she had reached the part where he has shown her around the yard, Jasmine looked genuinely fascinated in the story, her attention completely focused on Natalie. Her eyebrows had shot up when she told her about Horace catching her, and what she had said to James. By the time she was done speaking, the coffee-skinned woman's eyes had fallen to the table once more.

"Have I made my point?" said Natalie after a lengthy silence, her tone momentous.

The woman before her glanced up at her, a bit sheepishly—almost guiltily. Her eyes were humble. "So, like… he didn't hurt you? I heard he crushed anything he touched."

"Exactly. Heard."

He eye fell again, defeated.

"I'm going back this afternoon."

Her eyes snapped up to her jade-eyed friend. "Why?"

"Because I'm curious." Standing, Natalie picked up her coffee cup and walked around the table to the counter. "I've heard so much about him—none of which have been that pleasant—and now that he's shown me the exact opposite of those rumors…" Pouring herself another cup of coffee, she shrugged, "I want the truth. Plus, after what he did for my car, the least I could do is go over and give him a chance to talk to someone other than his overpowering, ignorant father."

"Hey, James is a good man." Jasmine pointed a finger at her. "He might have some issues when it comes to family, but can't you understand that? People fear his son, so it only makes sense when it comes to business—"

"Oh, so Horace has to live life completely alone so his father doesn't have to worry about losing business?" Natalie turned to face her, a look of total disbelief on her face.

Jasmine let her hands fall back to the table. "Okay, once again it didn't come out the way I meant it."

"No." Natalie shook her head. "Just the way you think it." With that, she set her coffee down and walked out of the room.

Jasmine lifted her hands and dropped them back to the tabletop with a small sound of protest. "Natalie! Girl, come on." She sighed. "Natalie! Look, I'm sure he's as nice as you say he is!"

"Yeah?" Natalie briefly stepped back into view as she pulled on her leather jacket. "You wanna come along?"

Jasmine didn't say anything.

"I didn't think so." Not giving her friend any time to respond, she lifted her hair out from under the jacket, turned, and left without another word. She didn't mean to be so abrupt, but she couldn't squash the enflaming irritation that was bubbling in her stomach. The townspeople maybe, but Jasmine? She had not expected her to be so judgmental. It made no sense to her whatsoever how these people could make such solid judgments on someone none of them have even had a simple conversation with. Honestly, has he ever spoken to anyone outside that junkyard? It hardly seemed possible. Were there really people in the world that lonely and deprived? She flipped her long, silky waves over her shoulder as she ducked into the Mustang.

It was time to get to the bottom of this. She was going to get the full story of Horace Mahoney if it killed her.

James let out a deep sigh, currently bent over the open hood of a dark blue Ford pickup someone had dropped off earlier that day. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't concentrate for the life of him. It had started out with simple wonder, but over the past couple of hours it had gradually grown into an irritation, and then finally blatant aggravation. It was that woman. What was her name? Nina? Nadean? Whatever is was, she had been plaguing his thoughts since last night. It wasn't that he was angry with the girl. In fact, it had been nice to see someone react so positively for a change. It was what she had said to him that was bothering him so much, he realized. There are a few things I'd like to say to you, Mr. Mahoney, but considering you've been so generous to me today, I'll keep my thoughts on the way you treat your son to myself. At first he had been too stunned to react, and then that shock had turned into anger. Who did she think she was talking to him like that? But then his anger had slowly simmered down to a dreaded, reluctant guilt. He knew deep down that she was right, but what the hell did she expect him to do about it? It was maddening.

"Mr. Mahoney."

"Jesus—!" He stood up so fast he forgot about the open hood, and he received a good bang in the head in result.

Natalie remained calm, arms folded over her chest in an almost bored fashion as she watched the man before her release a rather colorful string of curses. His hand shot up to rub his throbbing head, the other coming up to grab the hood of the truck. He shut it with a perturbed slam, and he checked his hand for blood before finally looking up at her, eyes slightly widened. A demon. The woman was a frigging demon.

"Where the hell did you come from?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Did I catch you off guard?"

He let out a scoff. "No, I meant to give myself a concussion."

She didn't say anything. She simply stood there, arms folded over her breasts as she watched him with the most blasé stare she could muster. Eventually, he managed to collect himself and calm down, casting her a glance as he finally removed his hand from his head with nothing short of annoyance.

"What can I do for you…" What was her name?

"Miss Hayes," she said.

His face said it all. Guess we're off a first name basis. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss Hayes?" he asked, voice a bit dry.

"I was hoping you could point me in your son's direction," she said, keeping her voice in check and professional. "I'd like to talk to him, if you don't mind."

He was setting her with a faint glare. If you don't mind. Well, that wasn't directed at him or anything. "What for? Is there something wrong with your car?"

"No," she said simply. "I just wanted to speak with him."

He wanted to ask why, but he knew it would only dig him a deeper hole than he was already in with her. He could hear the words already. Do I need a reason? Christ, he didn't even know this woman, and he could already predict her. "I'll take you to him. The dogs are out, and I don't want you getting bitten. You're lucky you got up here without being attacked." He tilted his head at her meaningfully. "You should be more careful."

"I'll keep it in mind."

Jaw tight, he suppressed an aggravated sound and covered it up with a nod. Slapping down the rag he'd been holding, he cleared his throat and motioned for her to walk with him. "Follow me."

It took a little searching, but they eventually found him on the West side of the yard. His back was turned to them, a pair of dogs flanking him as he walked. One of the dogs, a large Rottweiler, noticed them before they made a sound, and Natalie watched its ears perk up. The next second, it was bounding towards them, barking. She let out a small giggle when she saw the stub of a tail wiggling on its bum, and she knelt down to greet the creature. This clearly alarmed James.

"Careful, he bites!"

"He's fine." She welcomed the big lug with open arms, scratching behind his ears as she tried to hold him back from licking her face.

He relaxed a little, but he looked genuinely surprised. "Huh… well, I'll be damned. Usually, he's the scary one."

"His ears are relaxed, and his tail is wagging, which shows me he's relaxed. Dog's only get mean when they feel threatened, much unlike humans."

James frowned the slightest bit. Was that another crack at the way he treated his son? He couldn't quite tell, so he couldn't really get annoyed.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"DeSoto." Almost immediately after he had said it, the dog let out a bark.

Giggling, Natalie held out her hand as a form of jest. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, DeSoto." The last thing she expected was for the dog to actually give her his paw, and it caused her to laugh. "Good boy!" The paw was big and heavy, almost the same size as her own hand. The other dog soon came trotting over, its movements a little more cautious than its counterpart. This one was a bluenose pitbull. She was only half the size of the meaty Rotty, her head dipped low as she sniffed cautiously at Natalie's leg.

"That's Bella. She's a little more timid, but don't let her sweet nature fool you. If she feels like you're trespassing, she'll set you straight real fast," said James.

Natalie looked over her shoulder at him, and then she switched her gaze up to Horace, who had turned around almost the same moment DeSoto had left his side. His eyes said it all. He was shocked to see her, but he hid it well.

"Hello, Horace," she greeted him cheerfully.

"…Hi…"

"She wanted to talk to you," James explained. "I'll be up front." He motioned to Natalie. "Keep a close eye on her. The last thing we need is for a car to fall on her or something."

He left with that, leaving the two of them alone. Natalie had risen back to her feet and was dusting herself off.

"I hope I didn't catch you in the middle of anything," she said.

"You didn't…"

"My car is running better than it ever has." Looking up at him, she smiled. "I can't thank you enough."

At least you're thanking me, he thought. No one ever thanked him. Some of them knew he was the one that did work on some of their cars, but they had never made any effort to thank him. That would include talking to him face-to-face. He felt a sadness creep through him before he even realized it.

"Horace?"

His eyes snapped back to Natalie.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He didn't really know how to respond. The fact she seemed truly concerned baffled him. "I'm fine."

"…Okay." Although she wasn't fully convinced, she put on a small smile. "Walk with me.

"…Where are we going?"

"Nowhere in particular. I just feel like talking."

He stared down at her. "About what…?"

"Anything." She smiled. "You can tell me about yourself, or you can ask me about myself. I just want to get to know you a little."

He didn't know what to say. What did this woman care? Surely she hadn't driven all this way just to talk with him… had she? It hardly seemed realistic. She was too beautiful to be put in words, and he was too ugly to be beheld by human eyes. At first he had thought she was blind, but that clearly wasn't the case. His mind just couldn't make sense of it, unable to form any type of reason for why she would want to get to know him. People had always chosen to ridicule and fear him. That was just how it was. Briefly, his mind strayed back in time to when he had understood for the very first time why his father was ashamed of him.

~~**~Start Flashback~**~~

Winter had crept in considerably quicker than the year prior. The first snowfall had already covered the ground in a thick layer of white, sparkling powder. The walls of cars groaned as the snow piled down on their hoods and roofs, straining their aged outer shells. Winter always made it harder to look for parts. And it was cold. Just two minutes of walking through the freezing snow caused your feet to go numb.

He trudged through the heavy snow with ease, but his chest bore a heavy weight. The feeling wasn't an unfamiliar sensation. Loneliness was something he had grown accustomed to after years of living alone in the yard, the only other company he had being the dogs and his father. Briefly, he glanced upwards, where the vast chain link fence was barely visibly above the stacks of cars. He hadn't been past those gates since he turned thirteen, and he often found himself wondering what he was missing out there. Of course he had an idea, but all he'd ever seen since his father had put him to work here were pictures and movies. Whenever people actually came into the junkyard, he was always sent away on some random task his father gave him. It wasn't until today he realized why his father always wanted him out of sight.

He trembled as the biting winter air blew its frigid winds over him. He was large—larger than the rest of the kids his age, and he didn't get cold as fast because of his size, but the icy air was slowly working its way through his body. He was only fifteen, and he was already 6'5" and built like a college football linebacker.

His father had suddenly sent him out to the garage, asking him to go get the radiator supports from the Chevy. The way he had practically shoved him out of the back door of the trailer was enough to nearly make him stumble and fall face-first into the snow. Confused and a little alarmed, he quickly ran through the snow towards the garage. He hadn't even had time to grab a coat. Whether it was out of curiosity or suspicion, he wasn't sure, but something made him stop. Instead of heading towards the garage, he hurried along the fence and crouched down behind a large, old truck about fifty feet from where a shiny black truck pulled up in front of the trailer. He watched as his father's shadow passed over the window in the trailer, and he stepped out the back door before heading over to the truck. A man stepped out, and they shook hands briefly.

"Hey there, James. You got that part I asked you for?" asked the man who owned the black truck.

"Had a hell of a time finding it, but I managed to scrounge one off one of the old Hondas. This should do just fine."

"You're a lifesaver, man. How much do I owe you?"

"I believe we settled on thirty."

Horace watched the man hand his father the money.

"Hey, don't you have a son out here with you?"

"Yeah…. He doesn't like to be bothered, though. Not really a people person, you know?"

Horace frowned. Why would he say that? He liked people. Well, he didn't have any reason to dislike them, anyway.

"Well, he's into cars, right? My boy, Michael, is around his age. Maybe they'd get along," suggested the man.

"Ah…" Lifting a hand, James scratched the back of his beck, almost in a nervous fashion. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Horace is kind of a jock, you know? He's not good with people—especially other boys his age."

How did he know? He'd never even talked to anyone else his age. Ever since he'd been put to work in the junkyard, he hadn't so much as spoken to any other people aside from his father. Why would his father call him a jock?

"…All right," said the man finally. He seemed a little suspicious, but he made no further move to argue. "Well, I better be heading back. Thanks for the—what the hell?!"

James spun about at the man's sudden switch in tone, noticing he was looking at something behind him. His eyes widened when he saw Horace standing beside the old truck, watching them with curious eyes. Horace was startled by the man's sudden outburst, but before anyone could question anything the man had begun to back up towards his truck.

"Jesus Christ! That's your son?!" he exclaimed. "You're right! There ain't no way I'd let him anywhere near my boy."

Before James could so much as attempt to calm the man down, he was hopping back into his truck and slamming the door shut before making haste back onto the road. Horace watched him go, startled and confused. What had he done wrong? Why had he gotten so upset? He wasn't able to ponder on it for long, because James was striding up to him the next second.

"Horace! Boy, I told you to go get those supporters! Why the hell didn't you listen?" he yelled.

"I'm sorry—"

SMACK!

"Get your ass inside! Next time you listen, or I'll take my belt to your ass!"

He didn't argue, running past his father towards the trailer. He didn't stop running until he was in his room and quickly shut the door behind him. It was almost a whole hour before he finally emerged and hesitantly edged towards the bathroom. His father was sitting in the living room, but he didn't look up as Horace snuck into the bathroom. Once inside he walked up to the mirror and took a long, hard look.

Deep down, he had always known why his father treated him the way he did. He was ugly. A total sideshow freak. His father was ashamed of him, because he wasn't like any of the other boys. All he did was make it difficult for his father to run the business, because if people saw him they would never come back. It was clear to him now that he would never leave that junkyard—even if he was presented with the opportunity. What was the point? No matter where he went, all he would receive is gawking, disgusted stares. He'd never get a girl or get married, because no woman would ever want him. To everyone else, he was nothing but the junkyard phantom. No one ever saw him, and when they did they always ran off in fear.

~~**~End Flashback~**~~

"Horace?"

Blinking, he snapped out of his trancelike reverie at the sound of Natalie's soft voice, and he looked down at her without really thinking about it. When he did, he saw she was staring up at him with a soft, almost concerned gaze.

"Are you okay…?" Her voice was soft like bells, laced with genuine concern.

His mood must have shown in his face. He glanced at her, and then looked back forward with a small nod. She was hardly convinced, and she walked around in front of him without hesitation.

"Hey." She lightly took hold of his arm, and his head snapped down to her, startled at the tender contact. Using gentle force, she made him turn to face her, before she closed the gap between them by wrapping her arms around his torso in a warm embrace. His entire body went rigid, but she didn't pull away. She held the embrace for another moment or so, and eventually he finally spoke.

"…What are you doing?"

"You looked like you needed a hug," she said simply.

He stared down at her, stunned. He'd never been hugged before, so he was severely underprepared on what to think. She pulled away after a moment, and for the first few seconds all he did was stare at her like she was some sort of alien. Then finally, he managed to get out the question that had been wracking his brain since yesterday.

"…Why are you so kind to me?" he asked at last.

He saw her frown, and she quirked a challenging eyebrow at him. "What kind of a question is that? Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

His eyes lingered on hers, looking unsure. "You're the first person to ever really bother. Everyone else that knows who I am fears me."

"Have any of them ever met you?"

"A few have seen me. That seemed to be enough."

Natalie's eyes softened. He could see, to his confusion, that his words had saddened her. He could see the pity in her jade orbs. After a moment or so, she lifted her hand and gave his arm a light pat and urged him to walk with her once more.

"Come on. Let's talk."

They spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the yard, stopping every now and then if something caught Natalie's eye. The dogs trotted beside them, tongues flopping happily out of their mouths. Natalie had done most of the talking. He seemed far more interested in her than talking about himself, and she humored him by telling him about her books and life. He asked about town and what it was like now, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His interest had sparked mainly on her books, however. It surprised her a little, but she gave him a few quick summaries about a couple of the titles, and he seemed genuinely fascinated that she was an author. She explained to him that she was working on a new book, but she wasn't quite sure what to write it about yet, even though she did have an idea.

After the first hour, he had warmed up to her and was visibly more relaxed. She'd even gotten him to chuckle at one point, a deep but pleasant sound. The entire time, she was taking mental notes in her mind to write down later. As they were walking, she happened to notice how the shadows from the cars had changed dramatically since she had arrived, and she stole a glance upwards towards the sky over the fence. The sun was setting steadily, having started to dye the clouds and sky an array of warm, striking colors. Had she really been here for that long?

"The sky is so beautiful around here," she mused quietly, and she saw him look down at her from the corner of her eye. "No buildings to block it from view…"

He remained silent at first…. "…Want to see something?" he asked hesitantly.

She looked up at him, and then smiled. "Sure."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards the slightest bit, and he motioned for her to follow him. She let him lead her to the farthest point in the junkyard, and although she was a little confused she didn't question it. But then he came to a stop before one of the walls of cars, and she couldn't help but stare at him in question.

"…What are we doing here?" she asked finally.

Glancing down at her, he pointed up, and, slowly, her eyes traveled upwards. No. No way. He couldn't possibly mean….

He chuckled quietly. "Trust me. Just step where I step."

"But… what if it falls?" she asked, voice quiet and a little nervous. It must have shown on her face, because he dared to smirk at her the slightest bit.

"You won't get hurt. I promise."

Her eyes shifted back to his face. She didn't know why, but something in his smoky blue eyes made her believe him. She knew there really was no way he could guarantee her safety one hundred percent, and she barely knew him but she trusted him.

"…Okay…"

He smiled fully at her for the first time and motioned with his arm towards the wall of cars. "You go first. That way, if you slip, I'll be able to grab you."

"I don't care if you have to grab my ass. Just make sure I don't fall off this thing," she muttered.

Taking a step forward, she placed her hand on the car closest to her and peered up. The fence was skyscraping in itself, and the wall was almost as tall as the fence. If she fell, and he didn't catch her, it would definitely be the end of her. Well, here goes… well, everything. Drawing in a deep, calming breath, she carefully stepped up and began a slow, cautious climb upwards. After a minute, she heard him climbing up behind her.

Horace couldn't believe she was doing all this. Showing up randomly to talk to him was one thing, but even he knew most men wouldn't dare to climb these walls. Most people feared they'd be crushed, as did Natalie, but here she was. She was the most fascinating woman he'd ever met, even though he'd met few. He could tell she was different. Audacious would be a good word to describe her. And beautiful. Her long, wavy locks hung over her shoulders and down her back as she climbed, swaying with the motions. Her skin was quite literally flawless, save for a small freckle here and there, but they only added to her natural beauty in his opinion. Whenever she smiled at him, her entire face lit up, and her jade eyes sparkled like diamonds. And, now that he was climbing beneath her, he really had nowhere else to look but up, and it was a sight to behold.

"Thanks for the visual massage, Flex," Natalie said suddenly.

He froze, hand hovering over the car door he had been reaching for. She wasn't even looking at him! How could she have possibly—

"I'm a woman, hun," she said, and he was relieved to hear she sounded amused. "I know any honest man would take an opportunity like this to check a girl out."

"…Sorry…" he muttered sheepishly.

She laughed softly. "Honey, you can look all you want. People that get all riled up about that type of thing are nothing but hypocrites. I take it as a compliment. All I ask is that you keep eye contact with me when I'm speaking to you. Women can't deny they gawk at the male anatomy when they spot something they like."

No woman would ever gawk at him, he thought. He was relieved she wasn't upset, though. He hadn't even realized he was staring until she had spoken, and he was glad she wasn't able to see the faint blush that formed on his face. Finally, she reached the top of the wall, and she saw there was an old pickup stacked at the very top. She looked down at him, and he nodded.

"Climb in," he instructed her.

"It won't fall?"

"Would I tell you to get in if it was going to fall?" He quirked a brow at her. "I've been up there, and I'm twice your weight."

Very carefully, she slowly lifted her leg and hauled her bodyweight over the side of the pickup. There, she froze like a spooked animal, waiting for it to teeter over from the sudden added weight. When it didn't, she relaxed, but then tensed again as he climbed in after her. Almost the same second he sat down, she reached over and grabbed onto his shirt, and because he wasn't looking the sudden contact made him jump a little. Turning his head, he smirked a little when he saw how nervous she looked.

"It won't fall," he assured her once again.

She looked at him, and he pointed straight ahead. Blinking, she looked to where he was pointing, and when she saw it her lips parted in awe. They were so high up and far enough back from the fence that they were able to see over it into the horizon. Now she understood why he had brought her up here. The sunset was magnificent from this view. The sky was a vibrant mixture of oranges, reds, pinks, purples, and yellows, as the golden sun slowly fell beyond the horizon, casting a royal glow over the land and junkyard. It was the most breathtaking sight she'd ever laid eyes on, quite literally something from a museum painting. It was a scene you might see in a documentary.

"Wow…" she whispered. "It's so beautiful…"

He glanced over at her. She had relaxed considerably since he had made her look forward, her death grip on his shirt having loosened. The golden light from the setting sun illuminated her gently tanned skin, giving her a warm glow, and as he watched a soft smile appear on her lips he couldn't help but continue to wonder why she was there with him right then. She didn't know him, and he didn't know her. They were complete strangers, and yet she treated him like a long-time friend. It wasn't like she was ugly and desperate for a friend, either. There was no doubt in his mind she could easily get any man she wanted with little to no effort on her part.

"You're very pretty."

Looking at him, Natalie's dark eyebrows rose high in surprise. She was a bit taken aback by the sudden compliment.

"I mean, you're pretty enough to be married by now," he said quickly, once he realized she probably thought he was trying to hit on her.

She smiled at him faintly. "You're sweet, but you should try telling that to my boyfriend, Danny."

That was the information he had been looking for. So, she had a boyfriend. It wasn't surprising to him, but it made him curious yet again as to why she was going so out of her way to know him. It made no sense in his mind that she should give a damn whether he was alone or not.

"Tell me about yourself, Horace," said Natalie casually. "I've been talking about myself almost all day. What's your story?"

He looked down. His story? She had basically told him her life story. It only made sense she would want to know his in return. It ashamed him how less interesting his was compared to her life, filled with travels, success, and fame. He hadn't even finished school.

"…It's not really that interesting," he said at last.

"I highly doubt that." She smiled kindly. "You're nothing like what people portray you to be. By telling me your story, I can get to know the real you."

"Why do you want to know so bad?" He wasn't trying to sound rude. He was merely trying to figure her out.

"Because I do. I can't explain to you why I do, and others don't. All that matters is that I'm here, aren't I?" She quirked a meaningful eyebrow at him. "Stop questioning the good things that happen to you."

He shifted his eyes down. It still didn't make any sense to him, but he didn't argue with her. If she wanted to know his past, then he'd tell her.

"…I was born… like this." He made a vague motion to his face. "My mother left almost immediately after she'd seen my face. It was the midwife who named me. My father raised me, but because of the way I looked I didn't have friends. I was bigger than other kids my age. I've always been big. By the time I was a teenager, I was as strong as an adult man, so my father put me to work in the junkyard." He shrugged. "I hardly saw anyone after that. When I did, it never ended well. Not everyone screams and runs away in fear, but they try to distance themselves from me as much as possible. I've been here since I was thirteen."

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty-six."

So he'd been in this junkyard for fourteen years? Alone? His mother had abandoned him at birth, and apparent she hadn't even wanted to name him. That must be why the midwife named him. He'd spent his childhood as an outcast, and then the moment he had turned thirteen, his father had locked him away in this place. There was no doubt in her mind he had been tormented as a kid as well. Children could be even crueler than adults, feeling no shame in throwing stones or other harmful objects at someone they didn't like. She could only imagine what it must have been like—what it must still be like. It broke her heart knowing he had suffered so much for no good reason.

"…So you never even got to finish school?"

He shook his head. "People think it makes me stupid, but I'm not."

"I don't think you're stupid in the slightest. Have you ever had a friend?"

He shook his head again, and then he looked at her and shrugged with a frank expression. "You get used to it."

"I don't see how that's something you could possibly ever get used to." She was shaking her head slowly. He had been alone literally his whole life, and for what? His looks? People sickened her.

Horace grew curious once more when she scooted closer to him after a couple minutes, and he was shocked when she wrapped her arms around his torso and snuggled up against his side with absolutely zero hesitation. He just sat there, stunned at how she had just curled up next to him like a small animal. Her bodyweight pressing against him was an alien sensation, and her warmth seemed to spread throughout him like a strange energy, but he liked it.

"You are not ugly, and you're not a monster," she whispered. "I've only known you for a couple days, and I already like you. You've been such a sweetheart to me."

He didn't know what to say. He was speechless. It almost gave him a headache at how completely and utterly astonished he was. How had his life taken such a dramatic turn in just two days? This woman had revealed to him she was a wealthy author, had many friends, and had traveled around the world. Why in the hell of it would she even think to bother with him? Did this make them friends? He had to know.

"…Does this make us…?" He trailed off.

Her lips pulled upwards into a soft smile. "Friends? I'd like that."

Before he could stop it, he smiled down at her. She didn't see, because she was looking ahead at the sunset. They continued to sit side-by-side, watching as the sun set steadily below the horizon. Natalie remained leaned against him willingly, and he could feel her smaller body rising and lowering as she breathed. Since he was born, he had been completely alone, and then poof. This woman appears out of nowhere, sees him, and willingly shakes his hand. Not only that. She had went as far as to hug him. The emotions raging within him were confusing, but they weren't unpleasant, so he welcomed them. All he could think about was how good of a mood he was in. She barely knew him, but she wanted to be friends with him. It clicked in his mind.

He wasn't alone anymore.

This story won't be entirely fluff, to those who might be wondering. A lot of dark things will happen, as well as some action. If you have anything to add in or suggest, don't hesitate to speak up! I will put all your words into consideration. If you ask a question, I will reply. xoxoxo