First encounter
It was getting cold. It was just early October, but the trees in Central Park were getting yellow, and the weather was starting to get rough. Especially cold was it for Kimberly where she sat on her rooftop clad in shorts. She had a sweater, but the soft blue cotton was thin and useless against the wind. She wrapped the worn blanket tighter around her body, so tight that it ripped and fell down in pieces. Fuck, she thought, rising up and slightly jumping to keep warmth in her body. She turned around, facing the street several meters below. A guy was walking by on the opposite side of the road. He was blond and muscular, face as sweet and handsome as the face of an angel or a superhero from a comic book. From the rooftop, Kimberly could hear him humming in a pleasant voice. This was her chance. She called out after him: "hi there handsome!" When he looked around for the source of the sound, she leant a bit closer to the edge of the building. "I'm up here, silly," she smiled, and he looked up at her and walked towards her building. He looked kind and worried. "What are you doing up there? You should be going home now, there's a storm coming." Kimberly leant even further towards him; she was leaning all over the edge now, honey-colored hair dancing in the wind. "This is home, pretty boy. I can't go anywhere."
At those words, he looked up at her, shock and pity in those ocean blue eyes and a wave of questions streaming from his mouth. "What's your name? How old are you? Why do you live on a roof?" something in his voice made her heart clench, but Kimberly answered him anyway. "I'm Kimberly. Eighteen years old. I escaped from an abusive stepfather in May. I came to New York from Scotland, with nothing but my phone, a tiny bit money and these clothes. There was a nice old lady who gave me some food and even shelter sometimes, but after she passed away a couple of months ago, I have barely eaten enough to live." The more she said, the sadder the guy's eyes got. "Oh," he said, seemingly trying to find something to say. "I'm Steve. I guess you could, eh, sleep over at my place?" Kimberly thought about it for a moment. He seemed nice, and sleeping inside a house sounded perfect, but after all he might have wanted to take advantage of her situation. She didn't have the time to find an answer though, because just as she opened her mouth to say something, the wind got too strong. It caught her waist-long hair, pushed at her back so she lost balance for just a split second, but that was enough to fall. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. A piercing, terrified scream escaped her lips, and she saw Steve's eyes widen before things went back to normal haste. Half a second later, Kimberly was sure she died, because everything went dark and soft.