♫Erica♫
I shifted, and let out a little gasp of pain. My fingers immediately flew to my ankle.
“Shit,” I muttered. I must have sprained it. I poked at the red swelling, and pain flitted through my leg, making me wince. Yep. Definitely sprained. I’ve had enough experience walking in six-inch heels (and falling in them) to know that yes, it was twisted.
“Are you okay?” Daniel asked, immediately coming to my side. I looked up, at his shadowed face, with the beautiful starry night sky behind his head, and my heart hammered.
“I’m fine,” I said, in a falsely cheery voice (well, as cheery as I could make it, with my hoarse voice). I didn’t really want to worry him.
“Don’t be stupid,” he muttered, coming closer to me. “Stretch your leg out.”
I obeyed, and gently stretched my foot out.
“You’ve twisted it,” he said, brushing over the swelling gently. “You need to get it checked out.”
“Okay,” I said, grabbing onto his hand, and trying to stand myself up. I collapsed down again, when a particularly large shot of pain ran down my leg, intensifying into a white-hot spot of pain at the ankle.
“You really are an idiot,” Daniel muttered, putting a hand at the small of my back, and another just at my knee. In one solid movement, I was flying.
Well, okay, I wasn’t flying. He was carrying me. Again.
“Let me down!” I yelled, and my throat throbbed. It felt like someone’s shoved sandpaper down my throat. I flushed red, and thudded at his chest. Damn it, why did he always carry me?! Well, okay, last time he thought I was Eric, but still! “Let me down, you bastard!”
“Why do you keep calling me a bastard?” he asked, not looking down at me. “What did I do to you?”
I glared up at him, trying not to admire his strong jaw line, and his high cheekbones, which was something that the moonlight made extremely obvious. He looked so hot from this angle.
“It’s not what you did to me! It’s what you did to Eric.”
He looked down at me now, seeming puzzled.
“What did I do to Eric?”
“You know what you did,” I said, cryptically.
“Oh,” he said, realizing. His face darkened, and he looked away. “That.”
“Yes. That.”
We walked on for a little while longer, the swaying movement kind of relaxing. Until my right ankle hit my left ankle (bad ankle!), and the pain woke me up again.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me why you did it?”
“Do I need to?”
“Yes.”
He looked down, smirking at me in a way that made my heart leap.
“Then why didn’t you say so?” he said, still smirking. “That would make life a whole lot easier.”
“Who likes easy?”
He looked back away again, over the rippling black ocean, at the long stretch of white moon shimmering and dancing over the surface. “Who, indeed?” he muttered, more to himself.
I waited, as he made his way through to the main town.
“Well?”
He jerked his head back, coming out of his little zone-out.
