The girl woke up, her long, scruffy black hair surrounding her. Everything HURT. "Oh, Gods. OW!" Her shout got a tall, handsome man-who was, now that she looked carefully, a teenager, to walk to her.
"Gods!" He shouted. "All those other times, you gave me beautiful girls, like Pershea, and now, I get a scrawny little one?" His features contorted with disbelief and hate as he threw himself down on the beach.
"Hey!" Leonie shouted. "I might be ugly, but I'm BLEEDING! As in wound bleeding, not...never mind."
The boy looked at her in disbelief, his fine features scrunching up. "AARGH! FINE!"
"Geez, don't get all testy on me! I'm tryin' to be nice!" Leonie huffed.
Silently, the boy went into the cave, and came out with a washcloth, a bucket of water, and a roll of bandages. Quietly, his face still looking frustrated, he cleaned all of her wounds, surprisingly carefully, and bandaged them.
"You can walk, now leave me ALONE." The gorgeous boy stressed the word ALONE. Overstressed, actually, in Leonie's opinion.
"Wait, Mr. Grouchy!"
'Mr. Grouchy' turned.
"What's your name?"
"Cal. Now don't talk to me,"
"Geez," Leonie grumbled. "Fine."
She got up and watched his receding figure in the distance.
Then, she went the opposite direction, west, and started building a little hut and forge. She WAS a girl, but daughter of Hephaestia, the Goddess of the Forge. So anything mechanical or just plain brute work Leonie could do fine, the calluses on her palms and the muscles in her arms proof, as well as long, tapered fingers and more than perfect eyesight which allowed her to meddle with even the tiniest, most delicate, gears and wires.
A surprising discovery was celestial bronze. She began tinkering with it to find a way off the island. And so she did-for a whole day, forgetting sleep and food. So she was surprised when Cal arrived, bringing her a bowl of hot, warm, soup.
Cal's POV first person
That idiot scrawny girl hasn't shown her face in a while. I better go with food to make sure she doesn't starve to death. That won't be good. So I walk ten minutes to the little hut the girl constructed, with a hot bowl of soup, and I see her, working away at some Celestial Bronze scraps, concentrating on something way too small for me to see. I am impressed. She built all of this herself? She still doesn't notice me, so I take a good look at her. She has long, scruffy black hair tied into an unruly ponytail, warm, brown eyes, and light brown skin. Elfin ears and a babyish face complete the look of a small, pint sized elf. Even though I have been scrutinizing this elf for a good minute, she still doesn't look up. I have to rouse her, the soup is getting cold.
"Elf!" I say. She doesn't turn. "ELF!" I shout. This time, she looks up.
"Oh, it's you, Mr. Grumpy."
I look away and say, "I got you some soup. Drink up, it's getting cold."
"AWW!" She screeches. "Mr. Grumpy has a heart! OH MY GOSH! Mr. Cuddlebear! That's your new nickname."
I don't reply. I put the soup down on the table she's working on and turn to leave.
"Cal!" I hear her voice call me. Against my will, I turn. "What?" I grumble.
"Thanks for the soup." Her sharp voice and features soften a little bit.
I walk over to her and put my hand on her head, leaving it there for a few seconds, and then ruffling her hair. She looks at me with wide, brown eyes.
"Hey, Cal, kneel down." Entranced by some strange spell, I kneel. She puts her rough hand on my hair, and leaves it there for a few seconds. Then she starts to ruffle it, just like I did to her. Oh no. I get up. I run out. I'm falling for her. The inaccessible. AGAIN. Why this torture?
She tries to catch my tunic because it seems like she has something more to say, but I disentangle her fingers from the soft white cloth, and take off like a cannon. I can't endure this pain. Not now. NOT NOW!