"Awww, kitten," he paused, most likely to take in the comical scene. How hard is it to wash your hands, Amy? That deep rumble returned, "What happened here?" She could hear the smile in his voice.
"Don't laugh. This hurts. Please."
"What hurts?"
"The glass in my feet."
She felt him immediately put his hands on her waist. He gently lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her arms wrapped around his neck. Hold onto your hormones, Amy. It's going to be another wild ride. He set her down on what she assumed was a chair and immediately felt bereft. "So here's the deal. Do you want to know the deal?" She didn't say anything, she just wanted the glass out of her feet, but she gave him the courtesy of at least looking towards where his voice was coming from. "You're going to stop being you, Amelia, so we can all get through this in one piece... Thanks. I'll be right back." That rumbling chuckle, though.
She heard his footsteps retreat on a cushy carpet, then hardwood floors, and then open a door. She smirked to herself. I think I could really like this guy.
When he came back, she heard him open up a container that she assumed was a first aid kit. She heard rustling, then he lightly grabbed her ankle. Just give me a minute to get my bearings over here, please. He slid his long thick fingers from her ankle to the arch of her foot without touching her heel and embedding the glass even farther. "You can just call me Amy."
"Hm? Oh, I like Amelia better. I'll call you Amelia." Well, he just told me. Didn't he? His voice sounded distant and distracted. "This may hurt a bit." Before she could prepare herself, he started pulling one of the largest glass shards out of her one heel. She gasped and jumped, but he held her foot still, continuing the assault on the remaining slivers. She grated her teeth together and hissed in a breath each time he got one more shard out of her foot. "Can you just sit still? I feel like I'm doing brain surgery on a conscious child. This is ridiculous." She could tell he was trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
"Oh, and you perform surgery on conscious children a lot? How interesting." She really drew out the sarcasm in that one but couldn't keep the smile from her face. Once he was finished, he didn't bother preparing her for the alcohol, either. The bite of the alcohol shocked her. "It's called preparing a girl for the attack on her feet."
He laughed quietly, and she felt a bandage being wrapped around one foot and then the other. Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Perfect timing. Your clothes and food has arrived, my lady." She could almost hear him bow down in front of her, as if her loyal servant. I'll take two please. She heard him gathering the supplies he used for bandaging up her feet and then walking away.
It was at that moment that her stomach reminded her that it was empty. With all the confusion and bad news in the past hour, she wasn't paying attention to the empty hole in her body her stomach became. Oh, and how the hell am I supposed to figure out how to dress myself or even feed myself? I'm over this already. I'm done. Done! Frustrated, and not caring that she was pouting like the child he called her minutes ago, she let her head fall to the back of the chair and let out a long sigh.
He said 'Leave,' to someone in an almost cold and distant voice and then returned to her. He said, "I'll help you," in a questioning tone. He sounded unsure of himself, like he didn't know what came next, like he didn't know how to deal with an exasperated woman.
"Do you have a wife?"
"That wasn't my wife."
"I didn't say it was. So you are married."
"I didn't say that."
We sure do like talking in circles. "Nevermind." Exasperated woman meet exasperating man.
"I am not in a relationship."
"Wasn't so difficult. Was it?"
"Eating isn't either, but it sure has you looking like you're about to climb Mount Everest."
Amy finally laughed—just a full out, all breath stolen from your body, wail of laughter. Once she caught her breath, she stated, "I don't know how to deal with you. I honestly don't. Is that supposed to be funny? Because you..."
She didn't finish her sentence because he cut her off right away, "Yes, it's supposed to be funny, Amelia. But..."
She cut him off this time, "As I was saying, you are really bad at being nice while being funny."
"I wasn't informed that was a rule."
"Well that's fucking obvious."
He laughed too, and there was something about his laugh. It sounded almost familiar, but he stopped right away and cleared his throat.
The next hour consisted of him helping her figure out where her food was on her plate, telling her about how he laid the clothes out on the bed so she could dress herself, him putting ear drops in her ears, and him helping her back into bed. Once she was back in bed, she was tired. This not seeing ordeal could get kind of old quickly.
She fluffed the pillows behind her and leaned back on them. "You don't have to stay with me. I don't know what I'll do, but you don't have to babysit me. I've taken up enough of your time."
"I'll stay," he didn't bother to expand or explain how he didn't mind or explain that he's not babysitting her. Nothing. She heard him start typing on a keyboard. So he's going to work. Not babysit me. Hence not expanding. Well, hmmph.
She laid her head back on the pillows and hummed to herself. There was literally nothing else that she could do. "Do you need something?" he stopped typing to ask her.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you."
"You're humming."
"That's what people do when they have fuck all left to do."
"Well, stop. It's distracting me."
"HA. You don't sugarcoat anything, do you?"
"No. And since it looks like you are going to keep talking, I'll so kindly stop working AGAIN. So tell me about yourself." She could hear him unlock his phone and type a couple sentences.
She wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. "What do you want to know?"
"Well I already know you don't have anyone. Tell me why."
"No beating around the bush for you. My parents died when I was young."
"What about now? You're a beautiful woman and smart too from what I gather. Why don't you have a husband or a boyfriend?" She could feel herself blush from his compliments.
"Lack of effort? And what did you gather about me?" she had a feeling this man could know anything about anyone. Money talks.
"All the important things." Vague.
"Well you have got to be rich, and you're funny sometimes, but I can't say anything to your looks. So why don't you have a wife, girlfriend?"
"I'm saving myself," he chuckled. She laughed along with him. She could hear that he muffled his laughter each time he laughed. She thought that was strange, but just ran with it.
She heard him rise from wherever he was and walk towards the bed. She heard him stop by the side of the bed. "I have a couple things to do. I will be back in a bit. You should rest anyway." Suddenly, she felt his warm lips gently press a kiss against her forehead and his fingers push a stray hair from her face. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with his scent, mint and crisp money. He started walking away, and from the doorway, he lectured, "And don't find any more trouble in the next couple hours, kitten. I've have enough of your shit for today." A slow chuckle came from the other side of the room right before she heard the door close.
She snuggled further into the pillows and let her mind wander. I like the name Jason, but I wonder what he looks like. As she searched her memory, she couldn't remember seeing any younger man in the bank with her. There were a couple middle-aged women, the older couple, the impatient business woman, the bank teller that she assumed was killed, and that was pretty much it. I wonder how I missed him while I was people-watching.
A/N: So what do you think of their banter? Love it? Hate it? I think they're a funny duo, these two. I especially like the feistiness Amy can show in the face of his bluntness. I think she's perfect for him. 3 As usual, let me know what you think, and constructive criticism is always welcome.
Until next time, lovelies. Ta!
