Well, aren't you guys such sweeties.
Please keep in mind that i really do have fuck all knowledge about where this is actually going. But lets keep this rolling anyways.
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Chapter Three
I think I must’ve slept late.
I awoke in the dim light of my bedside lamp, with the silk blue sheets (real fancy) pulled to my neck. Outside my window, I could see the once pretty sunset had now faded to black, with strange luminous flashes of red and green blurring out from somewhere.
It took we awhile to realise that the sky wasn’t in fact on fire, but being licked by the hugely bright lights from the pier, which must’ve been at least a mile off, yet still managed to shine it’s way over to my window. It was unlike anything I’d seen before.
The view from my window proved that my move to Brighton would be worth it; the road that separated our row of houses to the opposite was lined with pretty oak trees that were decorated with white fairy lights, and there was the odd shell just dotted about on the pavement. Over the house tops you could see the lights from the pier and city centre, the music creating a mellow thud within the walls, the big wheel lighting up the sky like an unknown star constellation. It was just like the movies, except a little louder, and there was no beautiful man there to kiss me on the dot.
When I finally dragged away my gaze from this newly founded wonder, I saw that there was a note left on the white wooden dresser. It was from Karen;
Lara, we’re sorry to leave you, it’s just that you looked so peaceful. Not to worry, though, we’ve only nipped out to our Neighbourhood watch meeting, should maybe even be back before you wake. Help yourself to whatever, but please do not leave the house. We’d rather know where you are, darling.
Karen x
Neighbourhood watch? Nipped? What the hay? Crazy British people.
I left my room hesitantly. Everything was so neat and organized, so prim and pretty, I didn’t want to ruin it. There were glass ornaments in the windowsills and strange pictures on the wall. Everything looked expensive, almost precious. Their furniture was all leathery and posh, and they had one big ass plasma on the wall. I would like it here.
I wondered into the kitchen, feeling ridiculously hungry, and took a look into their fridge. What I really wanted was an Ice Tea, and maybe a bag of chips. There wasn’t either, and I ended up gorging myself on these tiny little cakes that came in a box called Battenberg. They were delicious. I ate all six, loving this sweet almond paste that left the weirdest texture on the tongue.
Mid way through a carton of milk (I honestly felt like eating a horse), and a ham sandwich, I thought I heard a ruffle in the bushes. My ears pricked, but dismissed it quickly, after thinking that maybe it could’ve been a cat. I hated cats, but that wasn’t the point. It wouldn’t get through the back door.
Unless they had a cat flap?
I jumped off the kitchen stool, grabbing a knife from the sink, and wondered to the back door checking for a cat flap. There wasn’t one, thankfully.
However, the rustling fought on. It sounded as though someone had picked up a tree and was trying to use it as a tooth pick or something. Maybe it was the British, coming to kick me out. I slid down under the window, so they couldn’t see me, whoever they were. I kept the knife firmly in my hand.
Then someone shouted. ‘Hello? Is anyone home? I need a bit of help.’
It was a man’s voice.
Oh, sure, that’s just what they wanted me to think. Get me outside, and then pounce. Smart.
‘Hello? Look, I’m really in a bit of a pickle. I’m stuck to your fence, and its bloody cold. I know you’re in there, I can see your head.’
Oh, shit! Double shit! I’d have to go out there now.
Slowly, I picked myself up from the floor, still with a knife in hand. I grabbed the flash light I saw hanging up by the door, and stepped outside into the freezing air. I shivered.
‘Ah, Hello? Where are you?’ I yelled, hoping secretly that Karen and Ray were just running some kind of safety test on me.
‘Oh, good, you’ve come out. Look, I promise, I’m nice. Follow the sound of my voice.’
It was coming from behind the picket fence. I walked over, throwing the light this way and that. ‘Am I close? Can you see me?’
‘Oh, you mean the dark haired girl with the massive knife walking toward me? Yeah, I think I can make you out.’
I cringed. ‘I think I can see you.’
‘Good. Please try not to stab me.’
He was caught in between the bush and the fence, his tight white t-shirt caught on a stick, his leg stuck between the clamps of a huge, painful looking animal trap. ‘Oh God! You’re injured?’ I shined the light on his face. He had light brown hair swept across his face, and chiselled green eyes that were looking directly at me.
‘Yeah, I am. Could you just get my t-shirt off the twig? I can’t reach it.’
I nodded, crouching down by him so I could reach. It wasn’t exactly spacious. I had to press myself awkwardly against his chest, which was shivering violently, to reach behind him and rip it from the splinters of the stick.
‘You’re shivering.’ I muttered.
‘So are you.’ He replies into my neck, which was the only place left for him to look. His breath tickled.
‘What are we going to do about that? Do you need me to call 911?’ I say, pointing to his leg.
‘It’s 999, in this country, sweet. Have you just moved here by any chance? You’re accent is so strong.’
I cringed again. ‘Yeah, from New Orleans. You been? I think I need to go get you a blanket or something, else you’re going to slowly shiver right on off. And I need something to stop the, ah, bleeding.’
‘Is it bad?’
It was horrifying, but I decided not to freak him out more than necessary. ‘Well, honey, it ain’t exactly good. Can’t you feel it?’
‘I can’t feel anything.’
‘Oh. I’ll be right back, don’t… try not to move around.’ I was going to say don’t go away, but I doubt that would’ve been appropriate.
I ran inside, grabbing the first warm thing I could see (a cotton throw from the couch), and a first aid kit from under the sink. It’s amazing what you can find under pressure.
I ran back out without a second thought. Under the torch light, I could see his lips were slowly turning blue. I tucked the blanket round him, which he delighted in, and I also pulled off my black woollen jumper and wrapped over the top which I did on a whim. It left me with only a small tank top on, but you do what you can in times of crisis.
‘You don’t have to do that, you’ll freeze.’ He muttered.
‘I’m fine. You just relax and think of… well whatever you want to think of.’
I set to work on the leg. Using only a baby touch, I pulled back the first clamp of the animal trap from the fleshy mess that had become his calf, with him moaning quietly, and then pulled the leg off completely, placing it on a patch of grass.
‘What’s your name?’ He asks, out of the blue.
‘Why?’
‘Because I need to know the name of the girl who saved my leg from amputation and possible hypothermia. That’s why.’
Good enough reason. Tell a hot guy stranded out in your garden your name, couldn’t be too bad. ‘It’s Lara. Clancy. You?’
‘Lara?’ He said. I looked up at him, and saw him smirking under a wrath of blankets. Ass. ‘That’s your name?’
‘Yeah. Problem? Bearing in mind I just saved your life.’ I say, tugging a little too hard on the bandage.
He winced. ‘No, it’s just unusual. You don’t see many Lara’s anymore. My name is Will. Common, boring, four letter name. I know, I know.’
This time I smirked. ‘Will? Is that short for William?’
‘Yes.’ He sounded suspicious. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
Payback time. Now who was cocky? ‘Oh, nothing.’ I say, still with a grin plastered on my face.
His leg becomes stable after a few more twists of a bandage, and I help him onto his feet, sliding my arm under his. When he stands, I am faced with a huge white landscape of chest and shoulders. He was broad. And kind of hot. I punish myself mentally for thinking that about a victim you just found in your backyard. Bad, Lara, bad.
He hobbles into the house, of which he remarks at to me with a huge ‘NICE HOUSE!’ look of the eyes. I sit him on one of the pretty white leather couches, prop his leg up and stand facing him. In the light, I notice how he really is quite hot, but kind of…old. Older. At least in his late teens. Too old for me, anyway.
I see his gaze run over me, and I remember that I’m still in my little black tank top and skinny jeans. I must’ve looked like a little whore, with my boobs popping out left right and centre.
‘How old are you, anyway?’ He asks, settling in.
What can you say to that? I didn’t want to tell him my real age. ‘I’m eighteen.’
He seemed relieved. ‘Oh. Are you at the university?’
‘Um, yes, I am. Transfer student.’ Like fuck you are, Lara. ‘How old are you? Or is that a ‘gentleman’s secret’ thing?’
‘Oh no, I have no secrets. I’m nineteen. Would you mind lending me a phone? I need to make a few phone calls in order to get home, you see.’
I snap out of my little pervert trance, and fetch him my cell phone from my pocket. ‘Please don’t run away with it.’
He laughs. ‘I’ll try not to. Thanks.’
With an apologetic look, he nods toward the door, and I see he means for me to leave the room. I’m wary, but I wait outside, and try to listen in. Nothing much sounds familiar, it’s as if it’s in a different language almost- I listen harder, pressing my ear to the door. This language, it wasn’t like anything I’d heard; But then again, you didn’t hear much in the way of exotic language in New Orleans, especially when you practically lived in a desert.
This phone call carried on for a total of seven minutes, at times raising his voice; I wondered if he had some kind of beautiful European wife at home, and was trying to explain why he was in my sitting room. It got me slightly agitated, because at any moment, Karen and Ray could come home, finding a bloody stranger on their white couch that I’d invited into the house! My heart thumped.
Then, just as I was about to walk back in, the sitting room door opened. He stood tall in the doorway, leg magically healed. I stood up to his chest, feeling pathetically short, though irrevocably stumped and at a loss for words; my mouth just guppied open, uttering stupid mumbles.
‘Uh…your, your leg it’s…what, why? I gave you my phone and now your…huh?’
He smirked, his pretty lips pulling up on one side. ‘Its only a little cut. I can manage.’
‘But I carried you in!’
He started for the door, the back of his t-shirt ripped through with dirty edges- revealing broad muscles. He was so hot.
I, on the other hand, was most certainly not. I stood gormless, gripping the staircase banister for support. How attractive. ‘Wait!’
He turned his head just briefly, to look back at me. His eyes shone green. ‘You’ve still got my phone.’
He tossed it over his shoulder, and I caught it just about. Will walked out of the door, down the garden path. I ran after.
‘Wait, Will! Hold on just one god damn moment, will you?’
He stopped under one of the fairy lit trees. I was amazed at how all of a sudden he could be so well.
‘What is it, Lara?’
Then I stopped. I forgot what I was going to say. It was weird. ‘I just found you in my garden, stuck to my fence, freezing to death, and all of a sudden you just get up and leave? Holy mother of Jesus, how?’
‘I heal fast. Now, get indoors before you freeze to death. Thank you for looking out for me, but I really can take it from here, darling. Have a nice night.’
And with that, the mysterious man I found in my garden left. He walked up the street and turned the corner when he got there. I was confused. I stood in the street, listening to the faint sound of the pier for a while; my hands clutched my phone he’d tossed me tightly. My heart no longer thumped.
I didn’t know what to do, except turn and go home. And that’s exactly what I did.