Henri

Act 1 Scene 1

Kim Lagunov pulled his thin coat tight around his small frame as the brisk air nipped at his face and teased his unruly dark hair. The quaint town was still, with only the occasional lazy car droning along its cobblestone streets. Red leaves swirled midair between the cozy apartment buildings, and a chubby orange tabby cat basked in the few remaining rays of light as the sun dipped towards the horizon.

Trudging along his usual route home from the library, Kim sighed. He was exhausted, as he had spent his whole day restocking the shelves, which was no small task for a library the size of Merriam Jones. He wanted nothing more than to go home to his reasonably-sized apartment, brew himself a nice cup of green tea, and relax with a book.

He paced along in a reverie, staring at his shoes, unconcerned with the world, until he stepped in something sticky. Fat red drops of blood lay scattered on the dusty pavement, a trail of crimson spattered along the cracks of the cement. The ominous ruby trickle led towards an off-break of the small road, a dim alleyway, which Kim didn't like the looks of. Though, as per usual, Kim's curiosity won him over, and he found himself cautiously slinking along the edge of the darkened pathway.

A faint raspy noise filled his ears, and as he neared the source he could see the crumpled figure of a man lying next to a dumpster. The stranger's face began to come into focus as Kim's eyes adjusted to the dingy lighting.

The man had hair the tint of honey styled in a snazzy undercut. His skin was quite pale, whether from blood loss or genetics, Kim was unsure. He wore slacks and a filthy ivory dress shirt, stained with blood. Well, more or less everything about the man was scruffy and covered in blood. An angry gash beneath his hairline oozed vermillion; a shallow slash wound meandered along his ribcage; his nose looked broken. Though he appeared tall and muscular, he was a mess.

A small groan passed his lips and sent shivers down Kim's spine. The man, simply put, looked like hell.

Now Kim, being a simple librarian, wasn't very street smart, but he was far from ignorant, and he knew that strange bleeding men weren't always friendly. So, hesitantly, he kneeled to eye level and his lip quivered as a look of pure unbridled discomfort creased his brow.

"Um... sir. Are you okay." It was all that Kim could manage, an awkward, high pitched inquiry that sounded more like a statement. To his defense, it's not like he was in situations like this on a daily basis.

The man was barely conscious. He moaned, and cracked his eyes open, effectively freezing Kim to the spot with his cloudy gaze.

"Oh! You're alive! Good. That's good." Kim obviously wasn't a people person. "I'm going to go and call you an ambulance now? You look like you need one, you're bleeding - bleeding a bunch." He turned and pushed himself up from the ground, sliding his cell out of a jacket pocket and unlocking it, but gasped as a frail wrist clamped itself onto his ankle. Pale stick fingers were tugging at his cozy fleece socks and holy sneakers.

"Please, no ambulance." the man all but croaked at Kim. "Call an ambulance and they call cops. No cops, no cops please." Now his tired eyes were wide and pleading, a sad shiny storm. Some of his bangs fell into his face and Kim stared at the fluffy strands.

Kim turned and sighed one of his little stress-sighs. "You need help, I can't not help you."

"Leave me here then, I'll be okay, just please no police." Blondie let go of his ankle and winced as he pulled his arm back.

This whole time Kim's anxiety had been building, and pressure increased in his skull. It was real; he could feel it and it hurt. He knew it was his responsibility to help this guy, but oh it was getting so hard. Ruffing up his short black hair as he ran his fingers through it, he made a small grumble. And then he opened his mouth and he said something that really messed everything up in hindsight.

"Get up. I'm taking you to my apartment. You can't just sit here and bleed to death." Kim pulled off the best demanding tone that he could, mentally crossing his fingers that he wouldn't be presented with anymore conflict than he had already encountered. Blondie probably would have complained if he could, but he just managed to respond with something along the lines of "Uggghhhhhhhhhrrrrrrh," which Kim took as an okay. He knelt down and slung the injured man's arm over his shoulder and rose to his feet, adjusting to the weight. He was suddenly very grateful for all of his dedication to keeping in shape.

Gradually, he led Blondie out of the alleyway and back onto the main road, all the while thanking his lucky stars that no one was around to stare at the pair. And also that his apartment was just around the corner.

They drudged along, and soon Kim felt the man's head loll sideways onto his shoulder, and he had to support even more weight. Sighing, he repositioned the man to fit (sort of) cradled in his arms, bridal style. If his neighbors were to see him he'd be questioned for months.

Reaching his door, he had to shift around to wiggle his keys from his pocket, jangling his alien keychain as he slid his house key into the lock. Kim shoved the door open and stumble into his cozy apartment. As he made his way over to the couch he snatched an abandoned newspaper from his cluttered table and covered the futon with it before laying his bloodied guest onto it. He then flopped onto his trusty recliner quite unceremoniously, before sighing and then rising to his feet again. With grace unexpected of the timid man he flung his coat aside and started fluttering about his apartment and rifling through his various belongings. He soon came back to the futon with his arms full.

Kim stuck his tongue out in concentration as he unbuttoned the tattered shirt and tossed it behind his shoulder, and then went about cleaning the ugly cut. He was no doctor, but he had somewhat of a fascination with medical textbooks, hence his knowledge of how to treat injuries.

After the wound had been dressed as best as Kim could manage, he hesitantly tapped Blondie, attempting to wake him. Surprisingly he was able to, and handed him a couple of his paper towels with pastel butterflies on them. "Blow, and it's probably going to hurt," was all that Kim said, and Blondie rolled his eyes and complied, cussing under his breath after blowing an unhealthy amount of blood and mucus from his nose.

"Ewww. Okay, don't freak out, I'm going to set your nose now, it's gonna feel like I'm breaking it all over again, so be prepared." Kim then gently placed his fingers onto Blondie's mangled nose and brought them down, causing a sickening pop as Blondie grimaced. Kim shivered, and then handed him a frozen pack of peas to hold to his face. After cracking his knuckles and biting his lip, Kim then began to clean Blondie's forehead gash.

Hesitantly, Blondie opened his mouth to say something, but Kim cut him off before he could get out a word. "Don't, we can talk tomorrow. I have questions, but they can wait. You're in no shape to hold a decent conversation." He clamped his mouth shut and nodded. Kim then handed him a pair of worn out volleyball spandex and an old tie dye shirt. "You can sleep in these." Blondie raised an eyebrow at the spandex, but gratefully accepted them.

"Thanks," he attempted a smile but failed miserably.

"Bathroom's down the hall to the right, my room's to the left. You can change and sleep out here on the futon, I'll go and grab some painkillers for you." Kim rushed off to his bathroom cabinet, snatching up some Advil and a cup of lukewarm water, and of course, rushed back out without thinking, walking in on his guest half dressed. "Oh! I'm sorry!" he almost spilled the water, and quickly turned his back with flushed cheeks.

"S'okay," the man yawned out, and mumbled something along the lines of a thanks after taking the painkillers and water from Kim.

Kim said his goodnight and made his way towards his bedroom, but Blondie stopped him before he could escape. "Hey. Thank you. You're kind." Blondie then smiled again, an actual smile this time. It was blindingly sincere, his whole face aglow, though his nose was swollen and bloody and the majority of his forehead was covered in gauze.

Kim nodded, entered his bedroom, and flopped onto his bed quite dramatically. He plucked his glasses from his head and dropped them onto the nightstand with a clatter. Right before he lost consciousness a single thought rang in his ears; 'What the hell have I gotten myself into?'