A/N: this isn't my fualt. it really isn't. i swear, this is a passing fase. Some sick poeple, like me at the moment might enjoy reading this.
She wasn't wearing anything. Well, she was, sort of. That is if you count a bathrobe that was so see through you could have drawn the exact shape of her birth mark that adorned her left hip. And even so, it was a hot August night. Air conditioning? you ask. Money? She asked. Her job as a secretary barely got her through college, let alone air conditioning, just because it was hot outside didn't mean the money fairy paid a visit.
So when there was a knock at her door, late one August night, she didn't bother to get off her bed. Why important would be knocking now? Her friends; who had parents that actually existed, and therefore helped with college payment, were all on vacation at the beach. They had offered, begged pleaded, tried to food poison her just so she could get out of work, but noooooooooooooooooooo here she was, all alone for a week.
So when the knock persisted, she chose to continue to ignore it. After all, she wasn't really dress, and she didn't want the person who was knocking to think that she was flashing them, no matter what hour it was. No, laying on her bed was a sane option. Eventually the knocker would go away and find someone else to bother, leaving her to continue in her depressingly monotonous life.
When the third knock came she lost it. She wrapped her small blanket around her, despite the summer heat, and walked towards the door with the purpose of one with a temper. She flung open the door.
"Who the hell are you and what do you..." words failed her when she saw who was standing there. Her legs failed her to. She clung onto the doorway, staring at the drop dead gorgeous blonde hunk of angel that God had decided to drop off at her door step.
"I'm sorry to bother you so late at night but I'm lost. Do you think I could come in?" His voice... ah his voice was bliss. Do what the voice says.
"Sure, come on in..." she tried not to drool to much as she stared. As he walked by her she noticed pointed ears. What the hell? Had her friends' attempts to food poison her have some adverse reaction? Were her eyes alright?
Elf. Some annoying part of her brain whispered. The part of her brain that was still thirteen, and a mess of raging hormones. Those hormones were having a field day.
"Ummmmm, may I ask your name, sir?" Her inner girl... fangurl, she corrected herself, giggled at the usage of sir.
"Of course, please forgive my rudeness."Ooooo he's polite! "My name is Legolas."