Work Text:
Rue talks like a book. Like the ones they made him read in English class before he dropped out. Catcher in the Corn or some shit. Fez doesn’t remember, but Rue talks like that. She looks like a Disney Channel tomboy. Converse sneakers, jean shorts with their hem rolled up just below the knee, baggy band shirts. She probably hasn’t brushed her hair since before rehab. Maybe not since she started growing hair on her head in the first place. It’s springy. He touched it once. She slapped his hand and gave him shit for days.
Fez loves the girl. He loves her so hard it cramps his stomach like that shit you can’t take because you’ve had too much oxy. You know it’s there but it won’t come out.
Okay, maybe not the best analogy. Heh. It’s Rue who talks like books. He’s just a fucking drop out drug dealer who got her hooked in the first place.
He loves the girl. Ashtray knows. Jules knows. Fuck, Mouse took one look at Fez looking at her, and even he knew. Rue should have left. Fez should have told her to hide when she didn’t. That stupid stunt cost him six hundred. He would have paid six large. He loves the girl.
It’s why he called Jules after Mouse fucked off. Fez didn’t know her from Adam, but Rue mumbled her name and nothing else, so he’d called her.
Something wasn’t right about that girl. That night, when she tilted her head a certain way and jutted her hips out, Fez could almost put his finger on it.
The angle of her jaw is too sharp and the collar bones are just a little too there and her thighs are a little too skinny like if he tilts his head and squints, he can almost see the bones under the skin.
Maybe it’s anorexia. Maybe it’s the other thing where you binge and stick your finger down your throat after. He definitely noticed the bandage on her forearm where girls like to cut themselves before they start hiding it under their skirts.
But then she flipped her pretty hair, and bitched about him walking too loud when he carried Rue up the stairs and how he was gonna wake up her dad, and she was just another girl. It’s none of his business anyway.
She loves Rue. That much is for sure. Maybe not like he loves Rue, but Jules definitely loves her. They grabbed for the blanket at the same time and Jules woulda tore his hand clean off if he hadn’t pulled back first.
Fez left Rue there, curled up under some girly fucking blanket with her new best friend.
What can he say? He loves the girl.
That’s why he’s not gonna open this fucking door, no matter what she says. He’s not gonna open this door ever again.
Rue talks like a book. He’ll just have to forget how to read.