It was pouring with rain. The skies were pitch black, illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. The thunder echoed around the streets like a roar of anger, chasing anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out in the night.
One luckless girl was Max Guevera. She trudged along a sidewalk nursing a gunshot wound and cursing Logan Cale with every other breath for his 'Crusade' against evil. Luckily for her as she neared the Penthouse she could see a light in his room come on. Max smiled weakly at the thought of a grown man being woken up by a thunderstorm. As she was to exhausted, and not to mention having a bullet lodged in her shoulder, to do what she normally did, which is to say, she climbed up the side of the building, come down the elevator shaft and prise open the doors to Logan's apartment, she pushed the intercom button. His voice crackled down the line,
"Who is it?" Max sighed; he had a voice that made her go weak at the knees.
"Heya. It's Max. Can you come down, I don't think I could make it up the stairs."
The intercom went dead.
"Logan? Hello? Are you still there?" There was no reply. She sighed again. Just like him to
take off down the stairs without another word.
A few minutes later the door slid open, Max stifled a laugh. He looked like a damp hedgehog.
"Nice hair."
"Nice gunshot wound."
She smiled.
"Knew you'd be impressed." Suddenly she stumbled and fell into the doorframe. Logan helped her up.
"Let's get you upstairs, eh?" Max grimaced. There were 15 flights of stairs to Logan's place.
"Elevator?" She asked hopefully.
"Sorry, It's still out of order. Anyway, exercise is good for you."
Max looked at him.
"Okay, so maybe when you have a bullet inside you it's not so good."
"Good answer."
They were 3 flights away from his apartment when Max stopped.
"Err Logan?"
"Ya?"
"Why do you suddenly have two heads?"
"What?"
"It's not that I mind of course, but it's kinda disturbing."
Logan grinned.
"Can you make it up the last three flights?" He asked.
There was no reply. He looked down at her. She'd blacked-out. He smiled, picked her up and carried her in his arms for the rest of the way.
He placed her tenderly onto his bed, carefully peeled off her jacket and shirt. He gasped. There was an ugly wound in her shoulder. It seemed bad but Logan saw that it had miraculously gone through her shoulder without touching the bone. Feeling very relieved he set about cleaning the wound. When he'd done the best he could, he covered her with blankets and set a chair by the bed to watch over her.
As she slept, his heart broke even more. He'd loved her since he first met her. And now she looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. But she could never be his.
He watched her through the night and as the sun crept over the tops of the tower blocks he realised that he's have to tell her how he felt. The only thing was, he had no idea how.