"Is there a reason you decided to spill your drink all over me," he asks calmly, his eyes forming an even more intense glare as he pats the sticky blotch in his hair.
I open my mouth to reply but no words come out.
"If you wanted to get my attention...
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[38]
Sydney
Four Years Ago
Ugh, he's just so hot.
Like the idiot I am, I walk straight forward missing the front step, before my foot gets caught and I go stumbling forward, the box in my hand flying up, making a mess everywhere.
And the box just so happened to have all my undergarments.
Limping, I quickly grab my undergarments and shove them into the empty box, along with the rest of my clothes. I reach for the lace bra that is on display on the porch, and I quickly retract my hand when I see white sneakers stopping in front of me. I look up at him, my cheeks turning red as he starts to chuckle at the mess I've made.
Well, at least my clumsiness makes him laugh.
"I'm embarrassed now," I mutter.
"No, don't be, it's fine" he waves me off, picking up some of my clothes and chucking them into the box.
"You need help with the rest of your boxes? Because I'm pretty sure you can't lift those with one leg."
"No, I can do this," I attempt to limp up the rest of the porch steps but all I manage to do is to welp in pain and fall back to the ground.
What's wrong with me? There's a cute guy in front of me and all I'm managing to do is to make a complete mess out of myself.
He bursts out laughing.
"It's not funny," I pout, but I end up laughing alongside him.
"I'm sorry, I can't help it, it kind of is," he sets the box aside and crouches down, sitting beside me.
"Let me see your foot."
"No-"
"Come on. What's your name?"
I look up at him for a brief moment, "Sydney."
"I'm Daniel, glad to be at your service," he jokes, extending out his hand.
I look down shyly, and he reaches forward, two of his fingers tilting my chin up, "Come on, Sydney. Let me check your foot. I don't bite. Not unless you want me to."
He stares at me with his blue eyes and his fingers graze my skin and...woah.
I sigh and give in, tearing my gaze away from him before he notices how mesmerised I am by his angel-like face. My foot ends up in his lap and he rolls up my jeans, inspecting my ankle, pressing on certain parts of it. His thumb brushes over the bruise that started forming on my ankle, and I gasp out in pain.
"I think you've twisted your ankle," he murmurs, softly setting down my foot.
"Great," I mutter, staring at the boxes in front of me in dismay.
![[38]](https://img.wattpad.com/cc5ab564f253d687e5786b68e7c0394a37d28760/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5263436a7a45725f536c67332d773d3d2d3936353031353439382e313634663461356234653165343331323633393130333338363132302e706e67?s=fit&w=720&h=720)
