#prisoner!noah

Out of curiosity, you scroll through. There are hundreds of faces, most of them look scary and intimidating until you come across him...

He had long brown hair and the prettiest eyes you'd ever seen. Out of every profile you had seen, his was the one you stopped and clicked on.

Name: Noah S. Davis Age: 24 Sentence: 15 years Time served: 4 Looking for: someone to talk to, nothing more

For some reason, you decide to write to him. You introduce yourself, tell him just a little about you, and then you ask him a little about himself and what lifes like inside.

Weeks pass, and you forgot you had even sent the letter until one evening, six weeks later, you come home to see an envelope had been put through your door. You open it, and are met with handwriting that so clearly belonged to a man.

For the first couple months, it felt a little awkward, you weren't sure how to talk to him or what to say, but he always had something to write about. Eventually, you get to know each other, and you both begin to look forward to recieving your letters.

A year passes, he tells you all about prison life- or only the ordinary parts. He talks about the library, the jobs, the never ending boredom. But he never talks about whatever put him in there. You tell him about your terrible boss, your family, how your neighbours dog keeps jumping over your fence. You tell him little things that no one else would care about, but he does. And then at the end of one of his letters, he asks- I'm guessing you've seen my mugshot, but I've never seen a photo of you. Would ever send me one? I've been picturing you in my mind all this time, it'd just be nice to finally know :)

You spend an embarassingly long time trying to choose a photo. Not because you're trying to impress him... totally not because you feel yourself falling for him! You settle on one that your friend took of you last year at the beach, one of the rare pictures where you feel like you look the most like you, and you tuck it into the evelope alongside another letter and send it off, trying not to overthink.

A week or so later, you recieve another letter from him. You open it as soon as it comes through the door and right at the top, in his messy handwriting, it says "Well, you're nothing like I imagined." Your stomach dropped, and you almost put the letter down, until you read, "You're prettier." Then your cheeks burned.

The rest of the letter was normal, he talked about a book he read in the library, and a fight that he watched break out, how the coffee in there sucks. And right at the bottom of the letter, he wrote "I hope you don't mind, your pictures on my wall now. It makes this place look less like a prison."

Eventually, your letters turn into phone calls after a couple years. When you first get a call from an unknown number, you almost ignore it, until you remember his last letter. "I finally got approved for phone calls. If you're free next Thursday around seven... I'll try" and that boy stayed true to his word.

The first call is painfully awkward, he has fifteen minutes, but he doesn't know what to say. It was strange finally hearing his voice after writing to him for so long. But it didn't take long for it to feel natural, and after that it became a part of your routine. Every Thursday, if the phones were working and he got the time slot, he'd call, and you'd chat for a little while.

Years pass by just like this, you smile every time you see a letter through your door, or something in a store that reminds you of him. He sent you a card for your birthday (though it came a couple days late), with something you love (an animal or a flower) hand drawn on the front. Every time you think about him, your heart feels soft and full. It's a feeling you've never felt for anyone before.

Then, one day, you get an envelope that feels thicker than usual. You open it up and begin to read it. "Hey, I've rewritten this letter about six times now. I just don't know how to say it, but I had my parole hearing last week..." Your heart starts pounding so you skip ahead before you can stop yourself, until you read, "They approved it."

You gasped out loud, your heart fluttering. He's getting out. The rest of the letter was surprisingly flat, he didn't sound excited about it at all. If anything, he sounded nervous. He went on to roughly explain what happened withoug giving away too much. He had given evidence against someone who used to run part of an organisation he used to work for, putting a lot of people behind bars, and if anyone found out, he'd be a dead man in no time. It worried you, making you wonder if there was anything you could do to help- which brings you to the next page of his letter.

"...Which brings me to the part I've been avoiding. My release plan has kinda fallen through. The place I was meant to stay at isn't an option anymore. My parole officer is trying to sort something else, but because of the case, nowhere is particulary keen to take me. They think I'll either be recognised or found by... 'old friends'."

You could already tell what was coming, you just didn't want to assume, and suddenly you realised you'd been holding your breath.

"I feel embarrassed even writing this. Please don't feel guilty if the answers no, in fact I'd almost prefer you said no. It would probably be the sensible decision... but if you had a spare couch, or even just a floor... would you consider letting me stay for a while until I find my feet? I'd pay rent as soon as I'm working, I'll buy my own food, I'll keep out of your way. I don't expect anything from you. You've already given me more than I ever thought I'd have. You gave me six years of company, I don't think I would've made it this long in here if it wasn't for you. So even if the answers no, thank you anyway. You have no idea just what you mean to me. I'd still write you if you'd let me, I've memorised your phone number so I could even call you when I'm out. I just thought I'd rather ask you than spend the rest of my life wondering if I should have."

You were so excited, you were practically shaking as you began writing back.

Noah,

First of all… congratulations!! :) I’m so happy for you, I think I’ve read the words “They approved it” about fifty times already. I might’ve even cried a little, but don’t let that get to your head.

Then, after a page of full of your excitement, you finally gave him your answer…

“And yes! Obviously yes. You don’t even have to ask, you can stay with me for as long as you need. I have a spare room, although it’s currently full of boxes and things I’ve been meaning to sort through for a few months. I’ll clear it out before you get here, I promise. So no, you’re not sleeping on the sofa. You’re having an actual bed. After all these years, you deserve somewhere warm and comfy to sleep :)”

A few days later, he calls. You both discuss the arrangement, and how it’d work since you live quite a few hours away from him- which is why you had never visited him. You were both quite glad this was the case though, because he told you the people that would be looking for him would never look there.

On his release day, you drove all the way to pick him up. You spent weeks imagining this moment, since you first arranged having him stay with you. You imagined seeing him, running over and giving him a big hug… but as you pull into the parking lot, you suddenly forget the entire plan, because now he’s standing right there.

Or you assume it’s him, he’s the only person standing outside the gate with a duffel bag at his feet. But he looked different… the only picture you had seen of his was his mugshot that had been taken almost ten years ago. But god, he has certainly changed.

The first thing you noticed was his haircut. His long brown hair was now gone, it was short and even looked darker than before. You knew he had cut it, he told you some guy did it for him in there, but you didn’t know what it looked like.

Then you noticed his build. A few years ago he told you he’d really gotten into fitness and using the gym equipment, and it’s clearly done him good. You had to tear your eyes away from his biceps as you parked up.

He recognised your car, you had told him what it looked like a few days ago so he’d be prepared. And as he started to wander over, your heart began to race. You stepped out, and neither of you knew what to say, which was funny as if you hadn’t spent the last six years writing to each other and talking over the phone. After a moment, he opened his arms, and you stepped into them.

If only you knew then, what would be in store for you…

Because Noah’s past can’t be put behind him until he knows for sure what happened to his best friend, Nick Ruffilo. After Noah’s arrest, he never heard from him again. He doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive, if he’s still involved in a life he never wanted to be a part of or if he got out and was now living peacefully under a new name.