Christmas Future ~George Michael~

Chapter 4 ~ Baby It's Cold Outside

"Hello!?" I heard a British man call from the woods. My heart began to race so fast I felt as if it were going to jump out of my chest.

I thought I was hearing things until I heard the voice chime again. This time, closer, as if it were at the edge of the woods. I slowly etched my way into my green room, hiding behind a table. I grabbed a plant for my protection.

It was silent for a moment before I heard a knock on my window. "Hello? I'm truly sorry to bother you. I was walking with a good friend of mine, and I'm pretty sure we accidentally got split from each other. Do you mind if I come in and use your telephone?" The man asked, peering through my window. I placed my back flat on the side of the table.

"Ma'am... ma'am I know you're in there. I'm telling you there's nothing to be afraid of," I didn't say anything, hoping he wouldn't see me and he'd go away. "Ma'am... the table is glass... I can see right through it." The man repeated out. From the sound of his voice, he was quite bothered from the cold.

I slowly stood from behind the table, looking over to where the man had been looking in. From what I could see from the low porch light illuminating his features, he had poofy hair and a strong jaw line. His eyes seemed dark. But that's all I could make out of. Everything else was just dark.

I looked around and faced the flowerpot at him as my only defense. The man in front of me only blinked at this ration.

"Ma'am, please let me in. And could you let your guard down? The least I would ever do to you is a fist bump." He, from what I could tell, was smiling, placing his hands up in defense.

I bit my lip and just looked him in the eyes, of what I could see. I took a breath and placed the planter down. I slowly made my way to the door and unlocked it. You could hear the man's thanking from under his breath.

He walked into the green room and immediately closed the screen door behind him. I honestly felt bad for leaving him out there for that amount of time. He didn't seem too dangerous from what I observed.

"Thank you so much.," he started, breaking the silence between us. "I was walking through the woods with a friend of mine in London, and then I suppose we got separated." The man told me, looking around.

I nodded until I had realized something about what he said. "Did you say you were walking in London?" I asked him. He nodded excitedly.

"I... Uh... this is New York City?" I told him in more of a question than an answer. And when I tell you this man gave me a weird look, he gave me a weird look.

"How could I be in New York? I'm telling you that I was walking in London after the 1981 British Awards and then I got lost." His accent was getting thicker with every bit of confusion going into his voice.

Did he say 1981? What type of CRACK was this man on? And if he was on any, how would I keep myself safe? I mean.. I practically invited this guy into my house.

I headed towards my light switch to see what the Crackhead looked like. The sudden light seemed to make his eyes hurt but it wasn't long until he and I made eye contact.

His facial features relaxed and his lips pursed. He looked me up and down but his eyes returned to mine.

The man was wearing a shiny gold satin button up shirt, the last few buttons now buttoned so they were showing a toned chest. He was wearing some loose colored pants and his shoes looked absolutely ridiculous. His hair was poofy, as I had expected, and his jaw line was indeed sharp. But his eyes weren't dark, yet they were a warm and welcoming brown. They were inviting.

He tried to speak, however all he could do would just move his mouth, speechless. I looked away before connecting my eyes with his again.

"I'm Kaya Waters." I said suddenly. It seemed to catch him off guard but he gave me an award winning smile.

"I'm George Michael."