Belong - an adopted by Hamilton fanfic [Hamilton]

72. To fall: again

[A/N: Yes, this is a long chapter with both ups and down. Make a cup of tea, maybe a snack, and sit down to read for a while. A song I suggest you to listen to at the end of the chapter;
20 questions - Veronica Maggio
Because that song for some reason really resonates with me and how I write Rue. Especially this time🍁🍂
Enjoy!]

"V, I'm leaving to see Dom now!", I announced  as I stood in the doorway to the living room, fully ready since 5 minutes back; absolutely terrified of being late. Though, I did not want to be early either. And so, I had double checked everything twice. Making it four. Which felt right.
Vanessa looked up from her book casually, and laid it next to her. Before standing, she quickly laid eyes on Sebastian, who was playing with all of his toys at once on the mat.
"Alright", she said, smiling as she walked towards me. She saw right through me and my nervousness I'd tried to hide. "Remember to have fun, okay Niñita?", referring to the fact that I was blinking and tapping simultaneously. I nodded, shaking a little. She put her hand on mine, and squeezed it tightly. "It's not needed, Rue. You'll be fine. But be home for dinner, okay?"
I smiled, nodding.
"Okay", I said, yet panically looking at the clock in the bookcase. "Gotta go", I said, walking towards the door, looking at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a pair of cropped mom jeans, and a white t-shirt with black, thin, stripes together with my red converse. I had a plain tote bag thrown over my shoulder, decorated with various pins. In it; everything that might be needed.
"Bye!", and before I closed the door, I spotted Vanessa's excited face. I couldn't help but laugh a little, because of it. At least she wasn't worried about me, or about what could possibly happen.
Not that I could say the same.

Step twice on each step. Up and down; up and down. Don't step on a crack in the floor. Do it again.

I did everything; through and through.

You won't make it.
He'll hate you.

I tried to rationalise, but the slaps of thoughts were hard to ignore. It took a while to get down to the ground floor. I tapped the doorknob four times, took a deep breath or two, and then walked out.

There he stood.
Early, like me.
He looked tired, just like I remembered him. His hair slightly curly, in need of a haircut, flopped over the side. Kind eyes, looking through his glasses, that were new. A blue bomber jacket, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
"Hi!", he greeted me, clearly excited.
"Hi!", I said, and before I knew it, he hugged me quickly. I hadn't hesitated, yet I wasn't prepared; and my instinct was to get away as quickly as possible. "New glasses?", I asked quickly, a little nervous as I turned around to check that the door to the building was locked.
Do it again.
"Yeah", he replied, laughing a little.
Check it again.
I could feel the eyes on me, burning in my neck, as I checked and checked.
"S-sorry, I just have to-", but he cut me off.
"No worries, Ruthers", he said easily. I finally turned around, relieved that the thought was finally out of my mind. Only now did I notice the camera he had hanging over his shoulder. He saw my look. "Oh, right. I brought my camera", he held it up. "Thought I'd snap a few pictures. I actually have someone to photograph, for once?", suggesting that I was the one to be in the photographs.
I raised my left eyebrow hesitantly, joking.
"If you're up for it?", he asked, a little nervously.
I laughed nervously.
"Sure. I'm not very photogenic though", I said, baffled by how easy it was to talk to him. Even in person. I began to walk, trying to have a pace that was normal; even though I was actively avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk.
If you step on a crack your family will die.
The thought was like taking a hit to the heart.
"I don't believe that", he quickly replied, and smiled at me. "And if that's the case, I promise to take your picture anyway"
I smiled back.
"Hah, thanks", I said, laughing. "So, what have you been up to today?", forcing myself to ask questions, trying to sound normal, though I already felt on edge.
We walked by a bodega, the smell of coffee and music from the shop filling my senses. A guy ran out of it, the owner running behind him, cursing and shouting at the guy to stop.
"Well, I haven't stolen anything today...", Dom stated, looking at the chase. I chuckled at his statement. "But I bet I've seen that guy steal stuff in my neighbourhood's bodega too...", he continued. "Pete? Maybe. He does graffiti, I think?"
I shrugged my shoulders, focused on my steps.
"But, to answer your question...", he fished a folded document out of his jacket's right pocket, holding it out to me. "Here"
I took it, giving him a confused look. Then, I read the title.