a/n: warning there's a mention of self harm issues in the past, which have been since recovered from :)

Ryder's POV

I looked around the room. It was almost as if someone had drawn a line down the middle of it.  Both halves of the room were completely identical . . . furniture wise. But the half on the left looked as though someone actually lived there: posters on the walls, other personal belongings on the desks. Contrasting, the half on the right was completely bare. On the bed there was a set of plain white towels and a dressing gown.

(a/n the wardrobe at the bottom is longer than the dresser, not significant but the perfectionist in me is annoyed about it >:( hehe.)

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Okay well I do not remember leaving it this tidy,"

"Rick came in and tidied it from you," Tessa said. "Ryder, Rick told me to tell you that we went for white sheets because we didn't know what colour you would like, but if you let me know, I can get someone to change it,"

"Uhh . . . dark blue?" I asked. I felt picky. "Or any shade of blue. I mean actually it doesn't really matter that much,"

"Great choice!" Tessa said. She left my suitcase by the bed. "There should be enough hangers in the cupboards and stuff but if you need anything just ask Samuel, he'll let one of us know, and also, once you've settled in, Rick said he'd like to meet you. But only if you're not too tired,"

"That sounds great, thanks Tessa," I responded. She gave me a nod, and smiled at us both before leaving.

I placed my bag on the floor. "Wow, Sam. This is a really cool room."

"Glad you like it. Your side looks kinda plain at the moment, but I'm sure you'll add your own touch to it soon. This is where I pin the mission information and notices and stuff," Sam said, walking to the corkboard in between the two windows. There was a couple of fliers for events and other things. "It's shared, so feel free to add on whatever you like. Would you like any help unpacking?"

I shrugged, "I think I'll manage. Do you have somewhere to be?" I didn't want to keep him here if he was busy.

He shook his head and threw himself onto his bed, making me chuckle. "Nah, I'll just chill here,"

I opened the wardrobe and took out the hangers. "So, have you always had this room to yourself?" I made conversation whilst I started hanging up my new hoodies.

"Until a few years ago, Blake used to stay in this room with me, but then he grew up and got his own room. Mainly because he got a girlfriend, and it was really awkward for me," he folded his arms behind his head and crossed his ankles, slipping off his shoes.

"Is his girlfriend like, here?"

"Yeah, we don't let any other people onto the grounds,"

"Oh I see," I hung up the hoodies in rainbow order, keeping things tidy, like I did at home. "Is your brother incharge?"

"Rick? Yeah pretty much. Him and a couple of other people. Gray and Sierra play quite large parts in running this place." he paused, "Oh by the way, when you meet Rick, he'll ask for your arm,"

I looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"Remember I told you about how he can see into peoples heads with physical contact? It'll only be for a few minutes, and it won't hurt or anything."

"Oh." I said. I then frowned.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," I said, going back to putting my clothes away. I couldn't possibly tell him about my scars. He'd think I'm such a freak, I thought to myself. 

I heard Sam get up from his bed, and sit on mine instead while I put my clothes away. 

"Are you sure? You can tell me anything by the way. If you want," he added quickly, clearly not wanting to pressure me. When I didn't find anything to respond with, he spoke again. "Is it about your arms?" 

I froze. How did he know about that? I thought. Almost as if he knew what I was thinking, he spoke again. "I have enhanced eyesight." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I brought it up, I shouldn't have," he said, before standing up to go back to his own bed. 

"They told me to," I said, quietly, but loud enough for him to sit back down. 

"Who? What did they tell you to do?" Sam asked softly. 

"The kids at school. They tell- told me everyday to keep-" I swallowed hard, "To keep cutting," I wondered if Sam knew anything about what I was talking about. I doubt anybody else he had met had talked about anything like this. "I stopped doing it recently." I added, when he didn't say anything. "It's all scars, nothing fresh."

"That's great," he said, making me look at him for the first time since he brought it up. "Honestly, I'm so proud of you. I know it's not easy, I've-" he paused, almost embarrassed. "Read about it,"

I gave him a weak smile. 

"And doubt worry, the scars aren't really that noticeable, I often see things that other people can't," he reassured me. "Rick will be able to see it in your head anyway, but Rick is one of the least judgemental people. He's found out things about people that their not proud of, and things they regret, and still treated them as if they had never done them," Sam picked up a hoodie and put it on a hanger for me. 

"Thanks," I said, referring to both his words, and the hanger. "I don't want to dwell on the past. Lots happened to me. But here I am, making a fresh start."

"With me by your side," he grinned. 

"I couldn't have wished for anyone better," I said, beaming at him.