Erik followed the young man all day. He studied this thief, carefully. He had witnessed the conversation between the woman and the thief he had learned was Lee, at the Brothel. He had heard the woman threatening him. He had watched as Lee swiped a few apples, but paid for the loaf of bread with Erik's money. He had seen Lee give the bread to the elderly woman and young boy, along with the rest of the francs. What was he playing at? Erik thought to himself. He had watched Lee gaze over the city and night sky for nearly an hour like he was looking for something. Erik watched him even more closely as the thief left the decrepit hotel he called home, and headed down to the market.
Erik lost his train of thought when he laid his eyes on what seemed like miles and miles of food lined up along the sidewalks. He knew it would come to this, stealing food to survive. He did his best to walk as quickly as possible past the produce stands, like Lee did yesterday. He casually let his hand dangle at his side and then grabbed an apple from the end of the stand.
He quickly hid it inside his cloak and continued to follow Lee who was doing the same, only he was taking money, along with food. Lee made it almost look like an art form. He was so graceful and light with his touch and step, almost as if it were a ballet. Erik became so entranced by him that he lost focus for a second and ran into one of Lee's victims, his hand accidentally sliding into the man's coat pocket. The man saw this and didn't hesitate to make others aware by sounding an alarm.
"Help, this man is trying to mug me, somebody help!" He hollered to everyone around him. It seemed like everyone stopped to look at Erik. It was over; they would recognize me once they pulled down my hood, Erik thought to himself. People were shouting at him. Shop owners were making their way over to attack him. Erik looked around for his prey, but had lost him. He whipped his head around and looked for an escape but saw none. His heart raced and he began to panic a little, but then suddenly something grabbed his hand and yanked Erik through the crowd of people and around the corner into the alley.
"I'll not have you taken credit for my work, understand that." A familiar voice shouted. It took a second to register who it had been. Then it became clear to him. It was Lee. Police ran after them. They shouted at them, tell them to stop and come back. But they never stopped. Lee pulled Erik through a maze of alleyways and over dozens of fences, only stopping for a brief second to catch a breath. He looked over at Erik and smiled a little.
"Sorry about all this!" He extended his hand out. "I'm Lee, the person who actually stole that man's wallet." He hesitantly took Lee's hand and nodded, being ever so cautious.
"Nice to meet you, now how do we get out of this mess?" I asked hoarsely. Footsteps came from nearly every direction. Lee stood up and looked around, and then smiled coyly.
"This way," he pointed and led the way through the alley to a shop with a dusty cellar window. He found a rock and chucked it at the window, making a small hole through it. He kicked the rest of the glass out with his foot and slid in. Erik followed, but unfortunately, his shirt got caught and a piece of glass cut deep into his side. He bit down on his tongue to keep himself from yelping in pain.
Once inside the cellar, they hid in the shadows, and listened as the police's footsteps passed by the window, their shouts echoing down the alleyway. Lee let out a sigh of relief, but it was all too soon as the cellar door slammed open, and a shout came from the top of the stairs.
"Who's there? Come out and show yourself!" A man screamed, trudging loudly down the steps. Lee calmed his breathing, but Erik couldn't, the pain in his side was stabbing at him. He could feel the blood running down his waist. Lee covered my mouth with his hand, trying to muffle the sound of his heavy breathing. Their heart beats were almost in sync with one another, the adrenaline flowing fast. Lee turned his head and looked at Erik, removing his hand.
"I'll distract him, and on the count of three I want you to head back out through the window and run, got it?" Lee whispered. Erik nodded in response. Something inside him didn't feel it was right to leave this petty thief, who had robbed him, behind, but the pain in his side told him to leave the bastard and not look back.
"One, two," his voice became low. "Three!" Lee yelled and ran further into the basement knocking over boxes and wood.
"There you are!" The man yelled and ran towards the sound, a knife in his hand. Taking his chance, Erik ran for the window, getting out without injury this time. He was just about to run when a cry of pain escaped from the basement, a few cries actually. Something inside Erik just wouldn't let go; instead, he waited by the broken window. A few minutes past until someone began to emerge from the window. It was Lee, he was grasping onto the side, trying to pull himself out. Erik crouched down and helped heave him out. Lee stood and brushed off his pants and looked at him.
"Thanks," he smiled, and then raised his eyebrows when he saw blood dripping down Erik's side. "Shit!" He huffed and grabbed at Erik's arm.
"Come on; let's get you out of here before they come back." Lee put the wounded man's arm around his neck and they trekked the 17 God awful blocks back to the decrepit hotel, and then up several flights of stairs to the top. Erik was lightheaded and pale by the time they entered Lee's room and he laid him onto the musty old couch. Lee threw off his jacket and picked up a bowl of water and a rag. He knelt down by Erik's side, near his wound.
"Can you take off your cloak for me?" Lee's voice was unnaturally soft, thought Erik. Well at least not very masculine. A tinge of panic ran through him; he couldn't reveal himself to this petty thief! But wait, hadn't he touched and felt my face and my scars in the cellar? Erik pondered. Instead of forcing it off, Lee merely nodded his head in acceptance that he would not.
"Alright, then sit up." Lee ordered. Erik did ask he asked slowly. He pushed back the side of Erik's cloak and pulled the tucked shirt up high enough to see the wound ordering Erik to hold it there. A sharp pain ran through his side. He slowly pulled out the piece of glass that was sticking out of the wound. Erik opened his eyes long enough to look down at what Lee was doing, but caught a much more interesting sight.
In all the confusion and rush of things, Lee's shirt had come undone a little, and tuffs of hair were sprouting out from under his hat. And down his shirt, well, need more be said? But his eyes shot closed in pain once more as he finished removing the glass and threw it into the bowl. He or she dabbed the wound with a wet rag, trying to clot the blood. She grabbed Erik's hand, which made his eyes shoot open and look at the cut.
"I need you to keep putting pressure on this," she looked up into his eyes, serious. He couldn't help but notice now, that Lee's face now looked more feminine than masculine, her voice too. Why hadn't I noticed this before? Thought Erik.
He nodded and she ran to a case on a rotting armoire and came back with a needle, thread, and a candle. His eyes widened a little when they found the needle. She threaded it and then placed the needle over the flame of the candle for a minute.
"I'm going to need to close up the wound, or else it could get worse, okay?" She didn't know it, but she was looking straight into his eyes.
"Just do it!" Erik couldn't help but yell at her. She grabbed the hand grasping onto the rag against my wound and slowly moved it away. He looked away as she inserted the needle through his skin. I didn't yet yell or holler, he clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, his nails digging into the arm of the couch. He breathed heavily through his nose. The pain felt like it lasted for hours. There was a quick tug at the thread then, nothing.
"Alright, I'm finished." She put the wet rag against the cut again, cleaning it up. She didn't look at him, only cleaned up the mess and then disappeared into another room. Erik pushed himself up a little but quickly stopped when it felt like his side was going to split in half. As if on cue, Lee came running into the room, linen bandages in hand.
"Don't move, you'll tear the thread!" She/he grabbed Erik's arm to stop him. He quickly ripped his arm away from her. She jerked her head back in surprise but shook it off. But Erik wasn't finished, he wanted answers.
"Who the hell are you?" He felt his nostrils flair and he stood, towering over her/him.
"I should ask you the same question!" She yelled back, challenging him, something he wasn't particularly used to since...her...Christine, but no! That was the past, this is the present! He struggled with himself internally. Erik brought himself back to reality and aggressively ripped her hat off; a mound of raven hair falling onto her shoulders and chest.
"You're the thief that stole my ring!" He grabbed Lee's arm and yanked at her. Little did he know, she was not like the women he'd been acquainted with in during his lifetime. With her other arm, Lee socked Erik hard in the jaw and in the stomach. The hit came with quite a forcing blow that it sent him stumbling backwards a few steps.
"How dare you touch me?" She growls. "I'm not some common whore you can easily over power!" She stomps up to Erik, her head barely reaching his shoulders, yet even though she looks up at him, Erik felt like she was looking down on him.
"How dare you steal my ring?" He tries to act like he has the upper hand, even though he knew he didn't. "You have no idea who I am, what I can do to you!" He challenges her.
"What you can try and do. Seeing as you're injured, I don't really think you could do much!" She smirks.
"Give me my ring, wench!" He puts his hooded face close to hers, accepting her challenge. She elbows him and begins to head for the door. Erik grabs her wrist and yanks her back.
"Give it back!" Erik snarls at her. She takes her other hand and punches him again, only this time it sends both of them back. Erik grasps his stomach. She lets out a quick yelp of pain and falls to the floor. He notices that the hand she hit him with is wrapped up, and then remembering that he heard two different yelps in the cellar. She must've punched the man and broken her hand.
"Shit! Ah, son of a bitch!" She's on her knees, grasping her hand into her stomach. This was his chance to get at her, but once he stood his legs wouldn't hold his weight and he fell to the floor. His body is weak from the loss of blood and the lack of food. Erik knew he was now at her mercy. But instead of taking another swipe at him she simply stood up and with her uninjured hand and dug into her pocket pulling out the ring.
"Fine, take it," she threw it at him. He picked it up and made a fist around it. Memories of Christine flooded his mind. Pain wrapped around his heart like a python, squeezing the life out of him. He yelled out in anger and slammed his fist to the floor. His breath was heavy, filled with anger. He thought keeping the ring would remind him of the love he felt for her, the good times. But slowly he began to realize that she had brought nothing but pain to him, that there were no happy memories.
He pulled himself up, grasping onto the arm of the chair for support. Slowly he made his way to the door. But before he left, he turned to the woman that had caused him so much trouble the last few days; the woman that had also helped him when he was in trouble, a complete stranger.
"Thank you, mademoiselle, for your help." And he walked out and closed the door behind him. He had made it only a few steps down before he heard the door open.
"She's not worth it," he turned to find her leaning against the door frame.
"How would you know?" He spit, his temper rising a little.
"She's not worth it if she's causing you all that pain," her words blunt and obvious. Erik looked away for a second, not wanting to face the truth.
"I'm very sorry for all the pain I've caused you, mademoiselle. Good day." He went down a few more steps before his legs fell to pieces underneath him. He heard her chuckle a little and slowly making her way down the steps, sitting down when she reached him.
"You're not going to get very far with that cut and as far as I can tell, without any food in your system."
"What are you implying?" He didn't look at her, he wouldn't.
"Well, do you need a place to stay?" He wanted badly to say no to her, but she was right, he wouldn't even make it another step down the stairs, plus he was hungry, God was he hungry.
"I'm taking that silence as a 'yes'," she wrapped his arm around her neck and guided him back up the stairs into her room, plopping him on the couch. She turned around and pulled something out of a coat pocket and threw it to him. It was an apple. He didn't eat it, no; that wasn't at all the way to describe it, he attacked it, taking large, fierce bites. It took him less than a minute to finish it.
"Jesus, slow down!" She gawked at him. "No one's going to take it from you!" She sat down next to him and lifted his shirt where it was covering the wound. She began to wrap a linen bandage slowly around him. While he watched her, Erik got a chance to take a good long look at her. She must not have been taller than 5'4", maybe smaller; she was in her twenties, mid most likely. A little round on the bottom and in the hips and thighs, but still, she was very pretty.
When she was finished, she got up and tended to her own injury. She dabbed the cut in her hand with a wet rag and gently wrapped it up. The hand was swollen and bruised along with cut. She must have broken it when she punched him. It's no wonder, she may be a girl, but she hits like a fully grown man, he thought to himself.
Erik felt his eyelids become heavy and he lay back on the couch, slowly drifting off to sleep.