A/N: Hello, friend! I'm sorry this took me so long to upload; I've been on work experience working nine hour days, and I'm exhausted. However, I will compensate by now uploading two chapters. This is the angsty chapter. Be warned! Pain and suffering abound! Sorry about that.

Disclaimer: I frickin' wish.

Richmond sat with me all day, helping me up when I needed the bathroom, asking me where everything in the kitchen was and making me lunch and dinner, talking to me quietly.

"It's so weird not being at work. I don't think I ever had a day off in my last job." I said.

"I know. I've being living in that weird little room for so long, and now I'm living with you."

"It was for the best, really."

"Yes, certainly. I don't know where I'd be without you, McKenna. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I told you, you're helping yourself."

"I know. But you made it possible. You're a genius really."

"I'm not. Why do you think I'm stuck in all those dead-end jobs with the only likely outcome being me getting the sack?"

"Well, I think you could be an artist."

"I did go to Art College. But I don't know. I'd just end up with a load of paintings no one wanted."

"No you wouldn't. Your paintings are really good."

"Oh, now I know you're lying."

"I'm not." He sighed. "Do I have to start giving you lessons?" I laughed hoarsely.

"No, not just yet." He smiled and squeezed my hand. My stomach did a little flip, my heart skipped a beat. This was what I had been experiencing for the last week every time he spoke to me, touched me. There was almost a spark when we touched, like electricity moving between us. He hadn't noticed, as far as I could tell. But it didn't matter. We were growing closer each day we were together. It was what I had prayed for.

I got up at eight pm to go to the loo. When I returned, Richmond was sitting on the bed, bent over his notebook, writing once again.

"What are you doing in that notebook? Writing a book?"

"Maybe. You'll see. I'm nearly done. I'll show you tomorrow. But it isn't quite a book."

"That's okay. I was joking."

"Okay." I got back into bed, but sat up. I wasn't tired, so I didn't see the point in lying down. I felt slightly better now, but I was still weak.

"I don't think I'll get to work tomorrow either." I said.

"It's alright. I can look after you." I sighed.

"No offence, Richmond," I said, "But you can barely look after yourself." He sighed too, and replied:

"I know. But I can learn, can't I?"

"I guess so." I paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Richmond…"

"Yes?"

"I want to say thank you."

"Why?"

"Because… It's so sweet, you trying to look after me like this. I know you must find it hard."

"You helped me. I'm just returning the favour."

"Well, thank you anyway. And…" I tailed off, realising the words I wanted to say were coming too soon.

"And what?"

"Um, nothing. Don't worry about it. It's fine."

"Alright then." He touched the pen to paper again, and I watched in silence as he wrote a few more paragraphs in slanting, spidery writing. The only sound for a while was the scratching of pen on paper. Then he closed the notebook gently, and looked up at me. His azure eyes bore into mine for a moment, before he looked away. I saw a faint flush of red go through his cheeks.

"Are you okay, Richmond?" I asked.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. It's just… it doesn't matter."

"Oh." I watched him for a few minutes, fidgeting. The red in his cheeks still hadn't gone, which was odd. If he was embarrassed, surely it would have gone by now? Then I remembered that the central heating was still on full. He must have been hot. I asked him if this was the case.

"Yes, I am a little bit." I wasn't surprised. He was still wearing his black velvet jacket.

"Why don't you take your jacket off?" He did so, but as he was also wearing a long-sleeved red ruffled shirt, he still looked uncomfortable.

"What shall I do?" he asked.

"Roll your sleeves up." I suggested. He looked at the floor.

"I'd rather not." He murmured.

"Come here." I pulled his arm towards me, undid the buttons on his cuff, and rolled back the sleeve. I gasped.

"I told you I'd rather not." He muttered.

"Oh, Richmond. Oh, no." I said sadly. His forearm was covered in scars; old fading white ones, newer shiny pink ones, and ones which could barely be a few weeks old. He nodded silently. I took his other hand and rolled up his sleeve. That arm was the same. He wouldn't look at me. I moved closer to him on the bed, and held out my arms to hug him. He didn't respond, so I simply held him for a moment, trying once again to comfort him.

"It's going to be alright, I promise." I said.

"I haven't done it since I met you, you know."

"I know. I know. But we need to tell someone. The psychiatrist at work, maybe?" He wriggled away from me.

"No. Please. Don't tell them."

"Richmond, you need help. You need someone to make it alright again."

"I don't."

"You do, Richmond. You need someone to understand you."

"No, that's not what I mean." He said, more forcefully than I'd heard him speak before, although it was still barely enough to make me notice his anger. "I mean that I already have someone. You understand me, McKenna."

"I try to, I really do. But I think I'm out of my depth here. You need a doctor at the very least."

"No." He stood up and shook his head, then picked up his notebook and walked out. I heard him go into the spare room, and frowned with the pain inside me. I knew he couldn't carry on like this. But I thought he would come round if I left him alone until the morning. So I got into bed properly, suddenly exhausted. It took me a while to fall into sleep, but it wasn't worth it. After the nightmares I had, anything would have been preferable.

I woke up at seven o clock the next morning, and the first thing I thought of was Richmond. I got out of bed quickly, without feeling sick this time. I felt a lot better, but I knew I couldn't go to work today. I had to talk to Richmond. I went to his door, and knocked loudly. There was no response from inside. I sighed and called:

"Richmond, I'm sorry. But we need to talk. Can I come in? Please?" There was still no reply, so I opened the door slowly. I looked around the room, even going so far as to check behind the door. But Richmond was gone. There was a note written on a page of his notebook, which he had left on the desk. I knew that if he'd left his notebook, things were bad. I held back the tears that were threatening, and read the note:

'To my dear McKenna. Clearly you will have noticed I'm gone. And I'm so sorry. I know you cared about me, but people mustn't know about this. You made me so much happier, so much brighter, like yourself, and that's wonderful. It felt nice. But this has dragged up old memories. I can't stay here now. Thank you for all you did. It was lovely staying with you, but I can't anymore. I was even starting to fall in love with you a little bit. It's gone now. I'm sorry. I don't feel any ill will towards you. It's just my time to go. So, goodbye, dear McKenna. I hope we meet again one day. Richmond.'

I couldn't help it any longer. The tears fell down my face, interrupted in their smooth path by my juddering sobs and shaky breaths. This was my fault. If it wasn't for me and my nosy nature, he would still be here. One part of the note seemed particularly ominous: 'It's just my time to go.' I knew he probably didn't mean to another town. I made a choice. I dropped the notebook back on his pillow where I'd found it, and ran out of the room. I got dressed quickly, and ran to work. I looked a mess, I knew, but I didn't care. I had to find him. Before he did something awful. On the way to Reynholm Industries, I looked for him some more. I knew he probably wouldn't be anywhere around, but that didn't matter. I knew my duty to him. So on I ran, calling his name over and over, searching in vain.

Reviews are more beautiful than the sunlight dappling through leaves :)