"Morning love" His raspy voice made me just about die inside. Then i comprehended what he said.

"Where the hell do you think you get off calling me that?" I replied somwhat annoyed. He got up and stepped over me, and began limping toward his makeshift kitchen.

"Aye dont worry, we call all the girls "love" in England" He propped his hand against the wall, and began searching through the mess of bottles on the floor. I got up to go help him, but he noticed me and shot me a bit of a glare.

"Don't you think you should get to a hospital?" I asked as I neared him. He turned.

"What for this?" He pointed to his leg. The blood had soaked through the gauze.  "Look love, see these here?" He then preceded to pull of his shirt. His body was in great shape, and covered in beautiful tattoos. I wanted to touch them, kiss them. I shook the last thought out of my head. Lady's don't kiss hooligan tattoos. Then i noticed. Under all the ink, were small, raised scars, that spoke of a hard bringing up. "Ive been stabbed about 6 times now, this isnt nothin" I was stunned. Growing up where i had, being stabbed was like death. It seemed something so far away, like something you only read about. 

"6 times.." i whispered to myself. He turned back to his task. I looked down at his worn hands. More ink. His knuckles read "blue eyes" and he had some kind of crest on the had he was using to go through the bottles. He was picking them up, swirling em, and putting em back down. They were alll empty. He sighed.

"fan-fuckin tastic" He grunted. I got it now.

"Your drinking already? Its barely 11!" Then i realized what i said. SHIT. Its 11???? I looked at my watch again.

"Ah DAMNIT" I ran to go get my bag, and hurried to put my shoes on. The boy looked at me, puzzled.

"What are ya cursin about miss lady?" He leaned against the wall, looking like a statue. 

"i need to get to my office, i was supposed to be there now."

He looked at me rushing about. Im sure i looked like a fool. My dress was still stained with his blood.

"Ya arent gon tell me your name?" He faked a sad look. I stopped moving for a second, and looked at him.

"Alice."

He was silent for a second, and looked at me kind of crooked. Then his face broke into a smile.

"You can call me Frank." He held out his hand to me. I looked at it, and shook it. I then preceded to get back to my task at hand. 

"Where do you work anyways?" He moved to the other side of me and sat down.

"technically anywhere they want me, but i always have to report to this office" I replied without looking at him. I was afraid i would blush if i did.

"Let me walk you there" 

"Your hurt."

"Im bandaged up all right"

I froze. The idea of this boy, er Frank, walking me through the richest part of town, covered in ink didnt thrill me. Not to mention the press would eat it up. But then i realized what part of town i was currently in. Hell id been out of the papers for a while anyways. I looked at him and smiled, "that would be nice".