Chapter Two

Meredith concentrated hard on keeping her balance as the world around her swayed before her eyes. Before she had time to register what was happening, her rescuer had removed his coat and wrapped it around her shaking shoulders. His hand found its way to the small of her back and he carefully led her away, carrying her purse over his other shoulder.

She was taken across the field to a vintage-looking building with high windows and little balconies. Without a word, she allowed herself to be led up the stairs and into his apartment, where he sat her down on a soft leather couch and removed his coat off her still-shaking shoulders. After throwing it with her purse on the lazy-boy by the couch, he proceeded by carefully removing her jean jacket and setting it by the other things.

He stood up and left her alone for a moment in the darkness, which allowed her finally to get lost in her thoughts; It was only when she sat there that she realized the full extent of the events that had taken place in less than 20 minutes. She had been held at knifepoint. She had willingly attacked her armed robber. In addition, most importantly... she had lived to tell the tale. She sighed at the thoughts, willing her heartbeat to slow down as she looked at her surroundings.

The room was simple, yet elegant. She was seated on a large couch that took most of the living room space, with its matching seat off to the right holding her belongings. In the middle stood a short square glass table with a maroon vase as its centrepiece. The walls were painted a rusty orange and decorated with pictures of major cities from all around the world framed in thick black wood. Cream silk curtains covered the high windows that overlooked the football field, and a small metal desk sat by the window furthest to the right, its surface covered with scattered papers, thick books and an open MacBook. The entire apartment was almost flawless.

Meredith wished now more than ever that she could take a better look at the man who had rescued her. In her daze, she had been so focused on what was going on that without thinking, she had allowed herself to be led blindly into a stranger's house.

Soon after a noise was heard, indicating that he was finally coming back into the living room. She didn't dare turn around, in fear that the man who had rescued her would turn out to be worse than the one she had attempted to run away from. Her lose hair was hanging limp across her face, and her sweaty hands were softly shaking with fear. She closed her eyes and heard him coming around and kneeling in front of her.

As soon as his soft warm hands wrapped around her cold ones, her eyes shot open and met a pair of light blue ones filled with concern. She took in his unkempt raven curls and scruffy face, down to the lips that were curved into a kind smile. Finally, Meredith lowered her eyes to her small hands that remained securely tucked inside his much larger ones.

Beside him sat a leather bag full of different sized bottles, band-aids, gauze, and several more medical aids. He took a sanitized cloth and opened his palm to reveal her bruised and bloody knuckles. Carefully, he cleaned the cuts, leaving behind a trail of stinging red and purple flesh. He then proceeded to brush a clear liquid across them, which left the raw flesh exposed but no longer bleeding. He finished off his work by wrapping her hand with a double strip of clean white gauze and stood back to admire his almost perfect job.

Not a word was spoken and while he worked, she simply looked at him and his actions in fascination. Satisfied with the results of the first injury, he looked up and his heart skipped a beat. Despite of the ugly souvenir that the happenings of the night had left on her cheek, she was strikingly beautiful. Her hair, a dark shade of blonde, spilled onto her shoulders in careless waves, and her large emerald eyes looked at him in a way that made him inexplicably want to wrap her in his arms and never allow anything or anyone to hurt her again.

Not taking his eyes off her face, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the extent of her bruised cheek. The attacker had worn rings that had caused a lot more damage than what was originally visible, and his heart ached at the sight of the angry bruising that had begun to stain her ivory skin.

Meredith, in turn, focused her attention on the knuckles that caressed the side of her face, unconsciously leaning into his touch and closing her tired eyes. Not allowing himself to hesitate, he took the disinfectant with his other hand and applied it to her cuts. He made sure to keep his knuckles rubbing slow circles on the good side of her cheek to distract her attention away from the pain, however she didn't even wince when the liquid touched her and he found himself admiring her no longer for her beauty alone, but for her obvious strength.

After cleaning off the dried blood, the cut, which had turned out to be deeper than he thought started bleeding again. He desperately pressed some gauze to it, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. At this, Meredith swallowed an involuntary sob but her eyes watered at the corners. The man seemed to notice, for his hand cupped her cheek and he offered an encouraging smile.

He was about to re-start the process when she put her hand on his to stop him.

"Meredith."

She choked, attempting to return the smile. He made a sound between a sigh and a laugh and squeezed her hand.

"Meredith."

He repeated softly, enjoying how it rolled off his tongue.

"I'm Derek."

She nodded slowly.

"Derek."

He brought the disinfectant to her face once more, wiping away the drying blood and succeeding in making it stop. He then proceeded to clean it with mercurochrome and covered it with a gauze patch. When he was finished, she turned her head to take away her scarf, revealing the collar of her white shirt that seemed to be covered in blood.

Her injuries, it seemed, were far more extensive than either of them had originally thought.