Halfway through his late morning stroll, Ryder Ferris came upon a body in the middle of the forest.
The unconscious figure lay, almost buried beneath a huge pile of snow. It was clad in black and now when observed closely, Ryder spotted drops of blood beside it. He stepped away from them, mentally noting the footprints leading from the meadow to his left and up the hillside toward the deep woods.
The body and prints were slowly being covered by the light tufts of snow and if he'd come upon them a few minutes later, perhaps they would have been concealed.
Staring at the hunched body, he felt a sharp jolt of pain, of something only he could come to terms with.
Invasion and... trouble.
He couldn't be compassionate after all he'd gone through but staring a little too long at the red stains, a sense of humanity stirred itself deep within him.
Moments like this, his conscience became an inconvenience.
Hesitant to touch it, he pulled at the dark scarf to reveal a striking face. He drew in a sharp breath, an undignified feeling pitching in his guts. He leaned closer to the face, feeling the electrifying warmth wafting off it.
The tumult in his stomach stopped as he reached out and felt for a pulse beneath the shirt collar. His fingers quivered then stung when they touched bare skin.
He was hot and his pulse was a little faint than usual but steady.
"Hey," Ryder whispered, his eyes drawn to the deep black hole beneath the taut blue shirt. It was like a violent sear and had probably been targeted to his chest but missed.
He would have died and Ryder wouldn't have been thinking of taking him back to the cabin.
Without warning, he came around. Eyes the brightest shade of blue snapping at him in alarm. He jerked forward, sending Ryder tumbling back onto the snow.
"What do you think you're doing?" The stranger growled with vigor. A surprise. His blue eyes reminded Ryder of clear skies as they darted across the forest. "What am I — fuck!" he cried out, falling back against the tree with a thud, exhausted. His eyes were still open, glaring at Ryder with suspicion and rage. It made Ryder's resolve to help falter but the teen knew better than to allow whatever this stranger say or do affect him.
He'd decided to help, whether the stranger liked it or not.
"The name's Ryder — "
"Fuck off." came the response.
Ryder smiled despite himself. "Fuck?"
"Leave me. Scram!" the stranger muttered darkly.
"You need my help. You're bleeding."
"I don't care. Just help yourself out of here."
"You know what," Ryder reached out to his trouser's back pocket. He slipped out his cell. "Why don't I call the police, they'll handle you."
For a brief moment, fear clouded his vision. It made him seem vulnerable and Ryder was amazed how this very fact twisted his already aching heart.
He decided against it.
The stranger said nothing and sat back still as Ryder attempted hoisting him up without much success because he was smaller with a lean build. The stranger wasn't huge either but taller and heavy though incredibly handsome. Ryder felt his face flame up as he bent over the man, slipping an arm over his shoulder.
He'd lost a lot of blood and needed help or he could die.
Ryder wondered how he'd feel if that happened.
"Where are we going?" the stranger whispered in alarm, his voice a betrayal of his earlier busty reaction. "Where are you taking me?"
"My house." Ryder stated simply, already too bored with much talk. "And stop talking, you need to gather strength."
He winded the scarf around his body, binding the cut. The intimacy was strong but above all Ryder chose to focus on his work. And that could have worked out if only the stranger didn't stare hard at him for so long.
At last, Ryder permitted him to stand.
He tried, fell back with a brimming curse of pain. He made another attempt, managing to get a grip on his feet, and leaned more and more against him till Ryder felt his legs buckle.
"Place an arm around my shoulder and try to add weight to your feet."
His hand sagged against the collar of Ryder's coat. Their steps were awkward as they made their way down the hill. Quietly, like a thief, Ryder snaked his free arm around the stranger's waist.