Lovespoken (Theo James)

Chapter 3

I wake up not knowing where I am. Exhaustion beckons me back into it's shadows. Slowly everything creeps back to me. I had been so tired, it all felt like a dream.

"You're awake," says a familiar voice. It's deep, with an accent. I don't know how I recognize it, for I do not have any friends who are foreign.

Cranking my neck to the side sends a jolt of pain down my body. I wince and immediately a mans hand reaches out to help me. I continue to twist my head to get a better look at this man, ignoring the rippling aches. My eyes rest upon his. They're so familiar. So distinct. It's the man from the gas station, my knight in shining armor.

That's when I become aware of my surroundings. Currently I lay in the grass, my head in this strangers lap. I'm in a field that seems to stretch on for miles right next to the side of a road with very few light posts. Yet somehow my car had managed to ram into one, having it crash into my windshield and completely denting the drivers side of the car.

Wait, did I do that?

"Wha-what happened?" I stutter, instantly becoming fearful. Was I dead? Am I dreaming right now? My throat clenches, warning me that a round of tears is hastily approaching.

"You don't remember?" he asks me. I sit up and face him, my body screaming with each small movement I make.

I shake my head no, afraid that if I talk I might cry. He notices my quivering lip and the look of bewilderment upon my face. Oh I can only imagine what I look like right now. My hair is most likely disheveled along with my clothing. And if my memory serves me right and I was siting in that drivers seat at the time of the accident, then I probably have blood somewhere too.

"Hey, don't cry," his voice becomes soft as he reaches his hands out, cupping my face. His thumb slides across my cheek to wipe away a tear.

"Am I dead?" I cry, not caring if I sound ridiculous or not.

Amusement dances on his face and a perfect chuckle bounces from his mouth, "No, you're not dead," he smiles.

"What happened?" I whimper.

"I'm not sure exactly. One minute I'm behind you, the next you're rearing off to the side and crashing into a lamppost. I slammed on my breaks," his car had been the squealing of tires I had heard. "And I rushed over to you. To be completely honest, I thought you were dead. I was terrified. But somehow the lamppost didn't touch you. Instead you were sprawled across the front seat passed out."

"How did you get me out of the car?" I ask.

"I had to slide you. There were shards of glass everywhere. But then I picked you up and rested you down over here," he sighs and wipes more tears away from my face, "Haley you're safe now."

He knows my name?

He reads my expression. "I had to look at your drivers license in case I had to call an ambulance but luckily you're injuries aren't severe at all. But hey, I found out you're from Chicago?"

He must be trying to distract me from my sadness. I sniffle. "Yeah, lived there all my life." Maybe I shouldn't entrust information like that with a man I hardly know. In fact, I am yet to learn his name.

"I'm coming from there too. Where's your final destination?"

I debate telling him, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"First can I ask you what your name is?"

He smiles and stands up, helping me to my feet after. His hands rest on my waist, straying longer than needed.

"Theo," he says, "Theo James."