I had named this How to Save a Life, but that was way overused, so it's now Writing Her A Lifeboat, which I think is pretty original.

This is chapter one and the prompts are:

*Obey

*First Encounters

*If You Loved Me

And this is what came out.

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"So you can understand my story, let me go back six months to September 19th, when I first met Michael." Kate would start with a smile. You would lean back and fold your hands, ready to listen. "He was actually pretty quiet, so I didn't notice him at first. I would spend my days traveling around campus with my girlfriends. Laughter swirled around our group of five as we sashayed from class to class, excided, jittery, and proud, ready for whatever the world would throw at us, or so we thought.

"I still revel in those days, the simpler times when death was on the TV and not a common occurrence and make-up and boys took precedent. Before my mother's death and Michael, everything was cupcakes and lollipops in my world, and I was just fine with it. Naïve and starry eyed, just like any other youth, is how I met the real world, staring into those deep brown eyes and apologizing furiously. I can't help but think if I had just watched where I was going or steped a foot to the right, I wouldn't have lost my will to live later on, but then again, I probably wouldn't have found Richard Castles books, which would have been a lot worse.

"Anyways, I'm getting off track." She would wave a hand by her face. "The thing is, I met Michael by a complete accident. As I said, I wasn't watching where I was going, floating on my fantasies and giggled with my girlfriends, when I slammed into him, sending my body toppling onto his. We froze for the first few moments, then he seemed to get nervous and I finally realized I could move. I got off him and he jumped up, scrambling to grab his things. I tried to help, but he'd have none of it, thanking my quietly but dismissing me with a wave of his hand. I swallowed and stood there, awkwardly staring at him until he'd gotten everything. He bowed lightly to us and scampered off. My girlfriends broke off into frenzied giggled, but I just stared at his retreating figure and wondered how I hadn't noticed him in the last two years.

"And I didn't see him again for two weeks. Each day I'd look out for him, giving a halfhearted focus on my girlfriends while my eyes scanned the crowds. I didn't even glimpse him. I began to think maybe he'd left the school, so on the last few days, I went back to my studies and books, but when I saw him again, I wasted no time introducing myself.

"I found him by himself in the Fales Library, eyes steeled on the words in front of him. He was hutched over in a wicker chair, his tussled black hair spilling around his face. One hand lay across the book from elbow to palm, keeping the pages flat, while the other made a fist by his hair and propped his head up. His white button up and white washed jeans were wrinkled and dirt smudged all around them, with dots on black all over the lap of his jeans, which I wouldn't identify as blood until much later on." Her smile would slip for a moment before she carried on.

"I was mostly out of my rebel stage my now, but I still felt that need to get guy friends. I used to have an abundance, but all of them were seniors and left this last year, so I was left alone with my girlfriends, wishing for impromptu rock climbing and rope swinging over frigid lakes. He didn't seem like that type, but I thought, 'why not start with him? He could share my interest in other things. Quieter things. Things any of my other friends would pass up any day.'

"I watched him for a minute as I hung out close to the book shelves, watching him occasionally move his arm to turn the page, and then go back to his steeled reading. It was like he was soaking up every word. It made butterflies fly in my stomach.

"Finally, I walked up to him, my heels making a loud clacking against the wood floor. If he heard me, he didn't acknowledge it, at least, not until I plopped myself down across from him and scooted my books to the side. I put my elbows out onto the table and bowed my hands into a hammock like contraption, watching him read.

"It took him a few minutes, but he finished a page and looked up at me. His movements were slow, calculated, like he was working on a bomb. One wrong move and the whole thing would explode, killing all his men and the people he was trying to save. Of course, at that time, I just brushed it off at apprehension. I considered anyone would be if a random person plopped down across from you and started staring. I didn't realize I'd get the same treatment eight years later, although every day. Karma anyone?

"He didn't say anything, obviously waiting for me to explain, but I was enjoying this staring match of sorts and I said nothing, just watching the chocolate color of his eyes dance in the dim lighting. He didn't seem at all uncomfortable and neither I as we sat there for the better part of the hour, trying to figure each other out.

"During this silence, I learned he wasn't very rich, so he must have gotten her on a scholarship. He was used to silence or, at least, not being broken. That interested me. Who learned not to be broken? What had been done to him or what had he seen to prompt this learning?

"I learned he can go without blinking for a very long time, and that his lip had a very small birthmark in the corner, almost unperceivable. It was yellowish, and round, and nothing ugly. It made him cuter, I suppose.

"I learned his hands were overly hairy and that he shaved, often, as in that hour his stubble had visibly grown.

"I learned he didn't get nervous in tense situations. He kept his hands still, on the table and palms flat, unlike me, who shifted every few minutes, he was solid as rock.

"I know he must have learned I twirl my hair when flustered and had an evil glint in my eye when I thought of something mischievous. I know he must have learned I wasn't quiet or silent often, for my lips quirked and I made faces during our session, none of which he really responded to, except the air kiss I gave him. He smiled, if only softly, at that.

"I was the one to break. I bet he knew that. I was the fidgety one out of us, even though to the casual observer we were both too still for normality.

"'What's your name? I didn't catch it.' I asked with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not expecting me to speak after so long, or maybe, stumbling over my words. He didn't answer immediately though. He sat there, eyes focused on a spot behind my shoulder, like he was thinking. Then, he met my eyes again.

"'Michael.' His voice was low and deep, a common mixture. I smiled.

"'Nice name. I'm Kate.' I didn't reach out my hand and neither did he; we just stared for a few minutes more before I broke again. 'Would you like to go out for some coffee after your finished reading…?' I looked down at his book but the cover was flat on the table. My eyes flickered back up to his. 'Whatever it is you're reading?' My lips quirked sideways and I say him smile tentatively.

"'Think you can wait? I'm only half way through.' His eyes flickered and I was glad to hear some genuine teasing in his voice. He seemed like such a depressed boy and I felt like it was my duty to cheer him up. After all, it didn't seem like he had many friends.

"I snorted. 'I bet I could finish that book in an hour. Cover. To. Cover.' I enunciated the last three words, and each time leaned closer until I was inches from his face. A smirk broke out on his face.

"'I bet I could beat that.' He smugly. 'I've only been reading twenty minutes now. If I'm not done by,' he checked a clock on a nearby wall. '2:58, coffee's on me.' I sucked my bottom lip between my lip, thinking, and then nodded slowly.

"'And if you win I pay.' I said firmly and with a gentle batting of my eyelashes. He didn't seem to notice, just sat back, eyes up to the ceiling like he was thinking. His right hand closed around his chin and he rubbed his jaw slowly. The sight made my stomach flip. He was a ruggedly handsome man, though not even close to the appearance of Ri-Castle. Castle's hair is brown and his eyes are a, uh, nice shade of blue not brown. Plus, he doesn't even have stubble and…"

She would clear her throat and try to fight the rising blush before unflustering herself and pressing forward.

"Erm, anyways, Michael answered with, 'How about, if I win, instead of coffee, we go for a walk around campus.' I quirked an eyebrow at his weird request, but didn't say anything, just nodded and scooted back in my seat, jumped up and sashaying away, letting my hips sway more than normal. I didn't know if he was watching or not, still don't, but I knew this was only about to get more interesting. I could feel it. Unfortunately, my gut was all to right."

She would pause then, eyes sad and disapproving. You would be able to tell how hurt she was. You would want to comfort her, but before you could, she would steel herself again and force a smile, turning back to the good.

"Turns out, he was faster than I expected. He finished at exactly 2:45. I gaped at him for a minute, but put my book down and obeyed. 'Fair is fair.' Before I got up though, I flipped over his book. I was too curious to find out what he was reading. 'The History of All Things Fried' popped out at me in bold orange font and I started to laugh. 'Seriously? This is what you were reading?' I was gasping for air within seconds and he looked sheepish but was laughing himself.

"After our laughing fit, I followed him out of the library, and we walked around the campus just like he wanted. I never knew it could be so fun. We laughed and talked and watched random people as they walked around us. He was quiet most of the time, but spoke up when it suited him, which suited me just fine. I never really got to talk about myself and I was enjoying doing so with someone other than my mother.

"That day I'm betting that whoever saw us assumed we were dating by all the nudging and grinning and laughing going on. It felt that way and I guess it was rather accurate. I still to this day count that walk around campus as our first date.

"Things escalated pretty quickly in our relationship after that day. Within the next month, date two, three, and four had come and gone. Fancy dinners and a soccer match seemed like heaven to my twenty two year old self. I could drink, laugh, and scream. It was a kid's dream.

"We shared our first kiss outside some restaurant whose name I've long forgotten. I forgot my coat and went to grab it, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me in and…well, I sure as hell didn't resist. I didn't have the common sense I do now that I didn't have then. If someone, anyone, grabbed me like that and forced me into a kiss now, I'd backhand them across the face and knee them in the groin. I really wish I'd done that then. A girl can dream, right?

"I don't know exactly when it started. He'd ask me to do things, nicely, like any other guy, but if I denied, he got more forceful. He still stayed sweet, but he was slowly becoming more demanding. "Please" became "if you care about me", just the beginnings of a "if you really loved me" scenario I've seen in 67 battered women to date, especially the dead ones. I know I'm lucky to alive today, but it still scares me, thinking about those days, when he started to push a little too hard."

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Before I go, I would love to thank my amazing new beta, nikkicaskettlover. She has helped me make this chapter flow better and made me feel like a great writer. *Grins* I would love some comments from my readers though. What would you like? Do you like where it's heading? I don't have the whole plot filled out yet, so I'm open to suggestions.