Only to be met with a pair of translucent green eyes, staring right back into mine.
A black ring of eyeliner emphasized her cat-shaped eyes as her long red hair framed her oval-shaped face. It draped across my chest. It was the first time I truly looked at her, and it wasn’t driven out of anger.
Did she always have freckles?
She swallowed hard, taking me in too. There was a hint of recognition, like I was sharing more than I meant to, and all we were doing was looking at each other. It was this trap, one woven by only her, and I was helplessly captive in it. I was suddenly her victim. Except I guess I was also her patient.
Questions propelled through my mind, one right after the other.
Why is she tending to me?
How did she even know I was out here?
How did she find me?
I hardly had time to contemplate one thought before another arose. She didn’t move. I think she was barely breathing. It was this awkward yet unshakable tether binding us together. A strong current I couldn’t see, only feel as it yanked me under its riptide. I tried not to drown, but it was as if she were a siren, both a promise and a curse.
Was she meant to come into my life?
Was I meant to come into hers?
Were we destined to meet?
For what, I couldn’t fathom or understand it.
Why is she helping me?
It didn’t matter. Nothing ever did when silence spoke louder than words.
I broke the stillness, needing to hear it from her lips and not my brother’s.
“What’s your name?”
Her gaze tapered. She wanted to answer, to talk, to let me in so to speak…
She didn’t.
My hand flew to my ribs, hissing from the jolt of pain. “Fuck,” I murmured under my breath.
Her eyes widened, her concern cutting through the tension.
“I’m fine,” I eased, trying to sit up. “Fuck,” I repeated, failing miserably at doing so.
I caught her slightly smirking before she reached out her hand to help me. I gawked at it for a minute until I had no choice but toaccept her assistance, knowing I owed her one now, and I always paid my debts.
For some reason, that realization came and went.
She cocked her head to the side, arching her eyebrow at me. Basically arguing that I let her help me or that I was stuck there.
I couldn’t resist, I chuckled, amused with her muted response. The sensation was unexpected as the noise left my lips. I reluctantly grabbed her hand, and she lifted me with her. Carefully, she set my arm on her shoulder and wrapped hers around my waist. Gently, she stood with me by her side.
Once we stood, I found my footing, causing my ribs to ache and throb. It was my turn to narrow my eyes at her, feeling like she had something to say but was forever hesitating.
Our eyes connected again, and my patience wore thin when I barely had any to begin with. I wanted to ask her so many questions. Even if I asked, I wouldn’t get an answer, and it would only further piss me off. I had to bite my tongue, and that was the hardest thing for me to do.
It took us two hours to get back to the house, when it was usually a half-hour walk. I had to keep stopping from the crippling pain in my ribs. She was patient as we walked, never once showing any annoyance toward me. I couldn’t decide whether I would have helped her in a similar situation, and I thought about it for most of the walk back to the front door.
It felt good as soon as we walked inside to havefinally made it back home with her.
