Damian
I was standing a yard away, and I was captivated by her stormy gray eyes.
She was an instant mystery that unfolded before my very own eyes.
"Are you alright?" I asked her.
"I . . . I . . ." She blinked, her chest heaving as she swallowed hard. She looked to her left and then her right, and behind her, searching, unsure.
"Are you badly hurt?" I asked, my voice almost in a whisper. She hadn't noticed the small cut on the back on her hand but I did. And the blood was to reach the surface.
She clutched her hand against her chest, trying to calm herself, and slow down the beating of her heart.
"He's—"
"He's gone," I answered.
"Ar—Are you sure?"
"I think my presence must have scared him off. Here, it's clean—you've got a cut on the back of your hand," I told her.
It was only then she turned her hand over to see. Her brows came together in a frown.; it was probably the least of her problems then, "Oh, it's not much."
"Still, you should keep it covered," I said, and my hand was still outstretched. I needed her to take the handkerchief.
She lifted her eyes back up at me before she took it. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." I could see behind the panic and the gratitude. There was something else gnawing at me from the strange woman's gaze, rooting me. Brought some unfamiliar heat to my senses.
"He just. . . came out of nowhere," she said, as she dabbed at her hand.
"He must have thought he'd be lucky," I told her.
I've had my fair share of encounters with roadside strangers. If only the blonde-haired woman standing in front of me knew how pale in contrast every second that passed in our silence was to many others, she wouldn't be so calm.
She shook her head and sighed, "God," tucking her hair behind her ear.
"You're alright now."
The next move I finally made was towards her.
I heard as her heart skipped a beat. Wa
What was that about? Some subtlety or not? I took the handkerchief from her. "May I?" I asked.
She hesitated, then she held her hand forward. I've lived long enough to say I've seen it all, but never seen time pause.
Time suddenly stood still as our fingers brushed each other.
Why the hell was I so calm in front of her? I definitely hadn't met her before. I would have noticed her smell. I just could not take my eyes off of her.
Who was she?
What was she?
"Thank you," She let out.
"Of course."
Nothing about this made sense. Not my sudden domestication. Not the strange woman's comfort being so close to me, a stranger, just moments after almost being assaulted by one.
I stepped away and looked at the flat tire of her car. This was obviously the reason why the vagabond had pulled a knife on her. Seen her vulnerability and took the chance.
"Are you sure he's gone? Shouldn't I call the police or something?" she asked, and I could sense the panic still there.
"He's definitely not coming back," I answered. I would know this because I had broken both of his hands and dumped his unconscious body knowing somewhere in the abandoned building behind her.
"And how are you so sure about that?" she asked.
It sounded as if she was suspicious of me. Maybe I had planned it with the attacker who wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.
Anyway, I didn't want to tell her the truth. That I had hurt the guy. It was better I just allayed her fears.
"Just trust me on this one, will you?" I said to her.
She hesitated for a second, eyes scanning me as if she could very well tell if I was lying or if I was telling the truth.
To me, she looked so vulnerable. And I felt this sudden urge to protect her at all costs.
She rubbed her shoulders and asked me, "So, what are we going to do about my car?"
"About your car?" I asked. "Well, I am going to help you fix it. Do you have a spare tyre?"
She nodded her head in the affirmative.
"Good. I don't expect you have the tools for that, do you?" I asked.
She shook her head, suddenly losing her power of speech.
"Just stay right here and I'll get them from my car, all right?" I said, and my hands were spread right in front to me to tell her that there was no need to worry.
There wasn't anyway. I could smell a heartbeat miles away, so I could tell that we weren't expecting any company.
I got the tools from my car and the spare tyre from hers, and proceeded to fix the flat.
"Where are you headed?" I asked her.
"Home," she said.
"Is it a long way?"
"Quite."
"Good thing I found you, right?"
"Thank you. For your help."
She was standing so close to me and I could feel her presence. It was like some immovable object that was trying to intrude into my private space. How possible was that?
"Sure," I told her.
She had a new tyre after I was done and her car was as good as new.
I returned my tools to my car, cleaned my hands and went back to meet her.
I didn't know what made me say it but the words just came right out of my mouth. "I should see you home. Just to be sure you get home safe. If that's all right with you."
"Thank you for your help but I can't trust you with my location."
"I understand. I don't have to follow you home."
She agreed and we were on our way. The drive took six minutes. I got out of mine and she wound down her driver's side.
"Make sure you treat that," I pointed to her hand.
"I will. Thank you again," she said and offered me her hand.
I took it and that's when I saw it.