Beauty of the Dust

3.

Chapter 3

Baby... did you forget to take your meds?

Baby... did you forget to take your meds?

I was alone, falling free, trying my best not to forget.

--Meds, Placebo

I was taking huge steps back, putting distance in between me and it, when I caught a glimpse of a face. His face. The bartender's face. Stepping closer to make sure, I saw that same strong jaw, firmly shaped even in an unconscious state; those thick, dark lashes; and his inky black hair, splayed across his forehead. I was also able to distinguish some other characteristics about him: his long, aristocratic nose; a small scar on his jaw, a line of pale, stark against his tanned skin; and reflecting in the moonlight, pierced through his left brow, one of those silver bars.

"Damn girl! How'd you get him to drop like that?" Brienne asked, having come up beside me to admire his body.

"I d-didn't d-do anything to him!" I choked out, panicked. Sophia had sternly lectured me of the consequences of letting others know what I could do. "I must have knocked into him harder than I thought and made him fall over and hit his head." Was my lame explanation, hoping Brienne would just soundly swallow it.

From the raised eyebrow she gave me, I don't think she did. "I could have sworn I saw a bright flash before he dropped." She wouldn't let go. "Did you see anything?"

I shook my head violently. Sighing, she studied me for a second more before turning her calculated glance to him and then back to me. "I might have imagined it..." She offered me, uncertainly.

Again, I nodded my head violently, reassuring her of her sanity in this situation.

"Well, I know him. I've seen him working at the bar. His name is Nate." Brienne told me. "Do you want to carry him back to the bar and see what they do with him then?"

"Ugh..." I looked back at where we walked from, and saw the corner the pub was located three blocks back. Looking back down at Nate, I evaluated the circumstance and the choices.

We couldn't call the ambulance, if they'd even come at this hour, because I highly doubted my story would be believed by them as it was by Brienne. Also, I wasn't so sure what would come up on his scans. I was sure he wasn't dead or permanently harmed mentally--I wouldn't do that, even if I had the ability to--but I didn't know the exact science behind what happens during his "rest". I didn't want to call my guardians because it was the middle of the night, and I got myself into this mess and I needed to learn to solve my own problems. I was considering this incident as: My First Problem Without the Guardians. That left me with full responsibility and no solution. Knowing I couldn't just leave him here on the sidewalk for him to get hurt, or robbed, or worse, I agreed with Brienne's original suggestion.

"Okay. I got his shoulders, you get his legs?" I suggested, getting in position by his head. Brienne went around to his feet, and we both bend down. Grabbing him from under his arms, I was hit by his smell. It was something simple, clean, but it had a hint or something more that I couldn't quite name. Looking to Brienne, we counted down from three and lifted.

"Huff." We quickly set him back down. He wasn't overweight by any means, but he was lean, lined with hard muscles that I could feel through his t-shirt, and he was tall; two elements that did not go well in our favor.

"Okay. Change of plans." Brienne puffed out. "We'll carry him to that bench behind you a ways."

Glancing behind me, I saw the bench Brienne was pointing out. It was a couple feet behind me, versus the three blocks back to the pub. "Deal," I quickly accepted her new plan.