3.
When Alice first saw the man falling through the roof, she was too shocked even to jump back. She heard wood splintering and stone cracking on impact; and with the sudden loudness of it all, her shoulders jolted up to frame her cheeks, and she barely looked upwards in time to see it happen. His clothing was familiar, and for a moment she thought she knew him; but of course, it was only the clothes that looked familiar, not the man himself. He lay on his side, curled up in her lily bed.
The blonde man was a pretty stranger. His face was delicate—refined, not weak; but as she stared, she realized he was stronger than he looked at first glance. Of course he was; he must be, to wield the giant sword that had fallen with him. Most likely he was a soldier. She felt awkward for staring and not rushing about trying to help, but she had no idea what to do. Was he safe? Did he need medical attention, and if so, what kind? Was he even alive? The thought of a dead soldier in her flowers was gruesomely poetic; but it would be inconvenient. She might be blamed—oh, he moved an arm; he was alive after all.
He muttered something nonsensical to himself; he was talking in his sleep. Alice, somewhat embarrassed, tried to make him aware of her presence. "Hello, hello," she called.
The beautiful young man—likely younger than she was, she realized with a small shock, and the poor guy must have been through hell—turned over onto his back with a groan. Alice knelt down beside him. "Wake up. Hello, hello!"
He opened his eyes and focused them on her. She could not help noticing the glassy, almost glowing green rim around the edges of his irises—the sign of mako infusion. So he really was in the army. Exactly, she thought with a mental chuckle, the kind of man her mother was always warning her about.
But he Iwas/I pretty…
The soldier stared wildly around him, then opened his mouth and bestowed upon the anxious Alice his first eloquent speech. "Ugh."
Well, she would give him time. He'd probably just had a concussion. "You fell through my roof. Do you remember that happening?"
He shook his head no.
"Okay. Uh, we'll take it from there." She pulled up a few stray weeds, waiting for him to sit up and regain some more of his bearings.
The idea of a pretty soldier was not new. Hadn't she just been thinking about it recently? A small, sweet-faced young man, who nevertheless looked like he could cut through a behemoth… where had she just seen someone like that?
IOh/I.
Last night outside of the theatre. She'd seen—wait. Wasn't this Ithe same soldier/I? She dropped her spade into the earth as the thought hit her. Could it really be him?
Well, it Icould/I…
She studied him closely. What if he remembered her and she acted like she didn't remember him? That could be embarrassing… Tentatively she asked, "Do you remember me?"
"Of course I do," he said hastily, obviously lying.
She looked at him expectantly.
Stuck, he turned to her a jesting smile. "You're the slum drunk."
She laughed at his joke, and put her hands on her hips with a mock-scowl. "No, really," she said. "I'm not sure if I've got the wrong guy. Did you buy a flower from me last night at the theatre?"
He closed his eyes as though replaying a memory. "It's you! The girl who fell down!"
"Yeah, that was me." She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically. "Are you really a soldier?"
The man put a hand behind his head and looked up at her with an expression of utter embarrassment. "I, uh… I do a little bit of everything. I'm Claude, by the way."
Claude. He wasn't really in the army. She glanced again from him to the sword and back, taking in his slightly frayed clothes, his scuffed boots. A soldier… but freelance. He could do what he wanted… he could stay if he needed to…
"I'm Alice. …Bodyguard, huh? Well, I could use one."
He gave her a skeptical look.
"I can't pay you," she admitted. She thought desperately for a way to keep him near her just a bit longer. He was just a random guy plunging through her roof, but he had been in the outside world. His eyes showed that he must have been in the army at one point; maybe he even knew Zack. He could tell her stories… or Isomething/I. Truthfully, his sudden appearance had been the most exciting thing that had happened to her dull routine of a life for longer than she cared to remember. She wanted to prolong that adventure, to hold on to it… She couldn't let him just walk away.
"I really do need someone to walk me home," she said, half-truthfully. "I'll do something for you. I'll…" What did she have?
Well, he Iwas/I handsome…
"How about if I go out with you once?" She gave him a big smile, hoping that he wouldn't think her too forward. IMom always tells me to be passive… oh, dear lord, I hope he doesn't take it the wrong way…how do you flirt, anyway?/I
Claude was shaking his head no. "Actually, I…"
"Just a friendly date," she insisted. "No pressure on either of us."
"Um… er…"
"So it's a promise?"
He sighed, shrugging. "All right. I'll walk you home."
When Alice first saw the man falling through the roof, she was too shocked even to jump back. She heard wood splintering and stone cracking on impact; and with the sudden loudness of it all, her shoulders jolted up to frame her cheeks, and she barely looked upwards in time to see it happen. His clothing was familiar, and for a moment she thought she knew him; but of course, it was only the clothes that looked familiar, not the man himself. He lay on his side, curled up in her lily bed.
The blonde man was a pretty stranger. His face was delicate—refined, not weak; but as she stared, she realized he was stronger than he looked at first glance. Of course he was; he must be, to wield the giant sword that had fallen with him. Most likely he was a soldier. She felt awkward for staring and not rushing about trying to help, but she had no idea what to do. Was he safe? Did he need medical attention, and if so, what kind? Was he even alive? The thought of a dead soldier in her flowers was gruesomely poetic; but it would be inconvenient. She might be blamed—oh, he moved an arm; he was alive after all.
He muttered something nonsensical to himself; he was talking in his sleep. Alice, somewhat embarrassed, tried to make him aware of her presence. "Hello, hello," she called.
The beautiful young man—likely younger than she was, she realized with a small shock, and the poor guy must have been through hell—turned over onto his back with a groan. Alice knelt down beside him. "Wake up. Hello, hello!"
He opened his eyes and focused them on her. She could not help noticing the glassy, almost glowing green rim around the edges of his irises—the sign of mako infusion. So he really was in the army. Exactly, she thought with a mental chuckle, the kind of man her mother was always warning her about.
But he Iwas/I pretty…
The soldier stared wildly around him, then opened his mouth and bestowed upon the anxious Alice his first eloquent speech. "Ugh."
Well, she would give him time. He'd probably just had a concussion. "You fell through my roof. Do you remember that happening?"
He shook his head no.
"Okay. Uh, we'll take it from there." She pulled up a few stray weeds, waiting for him to sit up and regain some more of his bearings.
The idea of a pretty soldier was not new. Hadn't she just been thinking about it recently? A small, sweet-faced young man, who nevertheless looked like he could cut through a behemoth… where had she just seen someone like that?
IOh/I.
Last night outside of the theatre. She'd seen—wait. Wasn't this Ithe same soldier/I? She dropped her spade into the earth as the thought hit her. Could it really be him?
Well, it Icould/I…
She studied him closely. What if he remembered her and she acted like she didn't remember him? That could be embarrassing… Tentatively she asked, "Do you remember me?"
"Of course I do," he said hastily, obviously lying.
She looked at him expectantly.
Stuck, he turned to her a jesting smile. "You're the slum drunk."
She laughed at his joke, and put her hands on her hips with a mock-scowl. "No, really," she said. "I'm not sure if I've got the wrong guy. Did you buy a flower from me last night at the theatre?"
He closed his eyes as though replaying a memory. "It's you! The girl who fell down!"
"Yeah, that was me." She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically. "Are you really a soldier?"
The man put a hand behind his head and looked up at her with an expression of utter embarrassment. "I, uh… I do a little bit of everything. I'm Claude, by the way."
Claude. He wasn't really in the army. She glanced again from him to the sword and back, taking in his slightly frayed clothes, his scuffed boots. A soldier… but freelance. He could do what he wanted… he could stay if he needed to…
"I'm Alice. …Bodyguard, huh? Well, I could use one."
He gave her a skeptical look.
"I can't pay you," she admitted. She thought desperately for a way to keep him near her just a bit longer. He was just a random guy plunging through her roof, but he had been in the outside world. His eyes showed that he must have been in the army at one point; maybe he even knew Zack. He could tell her stories… or Isomething/I. Truthfully, his sudden appearance had been the most exciting thing that had happened to her dull routine of a life for longer than she cared to remember. She wanted to prolong that adventure, to hold on to it… She couldn't let him just walk away.
"I really do need someone to walk me home," she said, half-truthfully. "I'll do something for you. I'll…" What did she have?
Well, he Iwas/I handsome…
"How about if I go out with you once?" She gave him a big smile, hoping that he wouldn't think her too forward. IMom always tells me to be passive… oh, dear lord, I hope he doesn't take it the wrong way…how do you flirt, anyway?/I
Claude was shaking his head no. "Actually, I…"
"Just a friendly date," she insisted. "No pressure on either of us."
"Um… er…"
"So it's a promise?"
He sighed, shrugging. "All right. I'll walk you home."