Every fiber of my being told me to go, to run. But i went toward it. Almost mezmerized. There, in the allyway. I quickened my step, barely catching myself and stopping at the corner. I peeked around, uncertain of what i would find. I froze, it was him, the redhead from the party. He lied crooked, leaning toward his left. The white shirt he had on at the party was now stained in the worst shade of red. Blood. Off in the distance, a group of men walked into the shadows, their backs toward me and the redhead. As soon as they were gone, i leapt out from behind the wall i was against, and ran swiftly to the redheads side. He was quite handsome, i didnt know how i couldnt have noticed him at the party. His icy blue eyes stared at the wall opposite of us in agony.

"How badly are you hurt?", i spoke softly. His gaze shifted toward me, then to his leg. I followed his stare, to the source of most of the blood. A knife wound. It was big, but quite shallow. Not much of a medic, my mind started racing with what to do. None of the hospitals were taking patients at this hour, and i didnt know any doctors in the district. 

"Where do you live?" i asked.

"just 'round the corner 'ere" His accent was clearly british, and suprised me for a second. I decided to take him to his house, seeing as it was closer than mine. I got him up, for a skinny guy he was pretty heavy, and we began to hobble toward his apartment. I got him to the door, and he handed me his keys slowly. I unlocked it and nearly fell inside. The whole place was a mess of broken bottles and art supplies. 

I brought him toward the couch at the far end of the room, he dropped down suddenly, almost taking me with him. He groaned in pain as he shifted his weight. I went to the powder room to find something to wrap his leg in. Ha! Perfect. A length of gauze lay by the mirror. I returned to his side, and he grabbed the roll from me, almost viciously. I reached out, to help him, but as i did his stare caught me. I lowered my hands and watched patiently instead. He dressed the wound himself, occasionally wincing from the pain. When he was done, he threw the roll at me, and precedded  to roll over on the couch and turn his back to me. I was stunned. After all i just did?! This is what i get? I was furious. 

"Hey! What the hell? Do i get any kind of thanks?". He turned to me and grinned, oddly enough it looked more like a snarl.

"tell you what honey, talk to me in the morning, and well see what i can do". He then turned back to his prior position.

Well, after that, i didnt want to go home for fear of a similar if not worse fate. Nor did i really want to stay here. But given the options, i chose to stay. I looked around the apartment more closely. There wasnt much furniture. The entire place looked like a war zone. Bottles of various kinds of liquor lay haphazardly around the living room. I went to look for a bedroom. The entire place was small. only 3 real rooms. I turned on the light in what i guessed was a bedroom. More broken bottles. A pile of drying canvases lay on his bed. Damnit. I walked back out with one of his pillows. I realized i still didnt know his name. I looked for a spot to lay down on the mess of a floor. Something moved out of the corner of my eye. He was awake, and faced toward me. 

"You know, i dont bite." He grinned. I could tell what he was up to. 

"You know, you could just move those canvases", I retorted. Maybe with a bit too much attitude. But what the hell, i was angry. 

"ah ask the crippled boy why dont ya?" He laughed. I couldnt help but begin to smile a little, despite how much i didnt want to. I sighed and looked him in those eyes.

"Well a lady shouldnt be sleeping anywhere near a boy whose name she dosent know. And thats that". I crossed my arms. Trying my hardest to look serious. He shifted his position a bit more.

"A lady eh? Well if you dont mind, i dont tend to consider women who walk the slums of New York at 3 in the morning ladies" He sat up on his elbow, giving me a look of victory. Unfortunately he was winning. Sleep was overtaking me, and i really didnt want to argue with some Brit hooligan about what a lady is at this hour. I walked toward him slowly, being careful not to get anywhere near the broken glass. He moved in a bit, making room for me. What the hell was I doing? He could be a damned rapist for all i knew. I could be walking toward my death. I sat down next to him anyways, and took off my shoes. The sweet releif of taking off heels after a 15 hour day. i lied down, facing away from him, moving as close as i could to the edge of the couch. Silence ensued for a while, and i was about to knock out, when that accent floated from behind me.

"How old ah you?" I could feel his breath against my neck as he said it.

"24, you?" I barely spoke above a whisper.

"Just turned 25" 

"Whered you come from?"

"A town called Hertfordshire, north of London"

Our back and forth questions went on for way too long. Eventually we both got quieter and made less sense, until the silence came again. I woke up to the sun shining directly into my eyes. I had forgotten about the window above me. Wait, above me? I jolted to conciousness. I had been facing the door when i went to sleep, but i was facing up now, and to my suprise (amongst many other emotions) my face was lying on a mess of red hair. His face was buried in my neck, and somehow, he ended up pressed up against me. I almost fainted. Dear god, what was i doing? My first instinct was to jump up and push him off me, But remembering his leg, i opted against it. I tried to gently nudge him. No response. Damn he was a heavy sleeper. I poked him, prodded him and eventually resorted to just trying to shove him off me. At this, he woke up. he looked at me, then smiled. His eyes looked even better in the sunlight.