This is just a teaser. I actually have about nine pages typed out at the moment. Just wanted to see if anyone might be interested in reading… I'm going to post the rest anyway, its not going to be a long fic at all. btw, i hate that you can't tab with this program.
Just walking down the street took everything he had. His hand pressed to his side, under the light jacket, his breath hitched as his palm grew damp. He could only hope that the blood wouldn't drip down his jeans and leave a damning trail behind.
He cursed himself over and over in his mind. He shouldn't have been so stupid; he shouldn't have taken that risk. He was honestly amazed he was still alive and walking, stumbling, away. He apologized quickly to a man he stumbled against, and jerked himself upright with pure will and determination. He didn't know where he was going; he just knew he had to get as far away as he possibly could.
He kept his head bowed, more because he couldn't keep it straight than an attempt to keep anyone from recognizing him. His vision wavered, black and white with glimpses of the sidewalk and multiple feet walking away from him.
He heard a buzzing sound, paused for a second, then looked up to find the source of the annoying noise. She stood in front of him, her fists resting on her hips as she spoke sternly. Her hair was blond, reflecting the sun so it hurt his eyes; her lips were red.
Reminded suddenly of the wound on his side, he pulled his hand from under his jacket and wondered how he was going to stop the bleeding with a hysterical female blocking his route. The last thing he thought before his eyes rolled up and his knees finally gave out was how pretty her alarmed eyes were, just like the sky…
He had been staggering all over the sidewalk when he rammed into her. She straightened him and was reading him the riot act when she noticed his eyes. He was either high or incredibly drunk; he wouldn't remember the lecture she was delivering anyway. It was ten in the morning and already the man was escaped in his own little world. She paused when he drew his hand from under his jacket, and noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, as the blood dripped from his shaking fingers. He looked her right in her eyes before he suddenly collapsed.
Pulling her cell phone out she called emergency as she dropped to her knees and pressed her own hand against the gaping hole just under his rib cage, trying desperately to stop the blood flow. She handed her phone to a bystander; let him give the information to the dispatcher as a crowd gathered. She pulled off her scarf and folded it into a square, pressing down hard, it quickly became stained. Time seemed to stand still, but less than eight minutes passed before a large white ambulance arrived.
She didn't have to go with them, but she found herself sitting on the narrow bench by the strangers head before she knew what it was she was doing.
He was remarkably pale, from blood loss, she guessed. The contrast between the dark wavy hair and the shocky blue lips was frightening. He was a tall man, stretched out his feet dangled awkwardly off the stretcher; his fingers were long in her hand and horribly cold. Then they were at the hospital, and his fingers slid away as they hurried him through the waiting room and into surgery. A nurse handed her a clip board to fill out, not realizing she knew nothing personal of that man except that his eyes were a clear, clear emerald green.