AN: Before you get mad and possibly throw things at me, let me apologize for being easily distracted by another story idea!
Secondly, if you haven't watched CA:TWS, don't read because there may be spoilers.
Please read and enjoy!
AN: So you know, from now all the chapters will be in Teddy's p.o.v. If there are line breaks, those are in third person. Okay? Okay.
Chapter Three: Oh Shit...!
Someone had better be dead or dying. That would be the only excuse I will accept as to why someone is pounding on my door at 3 in the. Fucking. Morning. I growled under my breath and threw my warm sheets off of me and stormed towards my door. I actually thought of grabbing a book and smacking the person upside their head. But that would be abuse. To the book.
"Hold your horses, fucktard!" I shouted as the person kept banging on my door. I growled as I threw the locks and opened my door, glaring murderously at the person awkwardly standing there. They were tall, and definitely male. I took a minute to try and study the person before me, but they had most of their body turned away from me and were hiding under a large coat and hood. I rolled my eyes when they made a move to knock on the door again, only to hit empty air. "Door's open, dipshit." I said. Yeah, I'm not the nicest person when rudely woken up. Steve found that out the hard way a week after our first meeting. It was my day off and he and this red-headed bitch had almost broke my door down. Well, she isn't a bitch, but when you try to break my door down and wake me up at the same time, I get vicious.
"Oh, sorry." The mad said, his voice a little rough and husky. Most likely from being drunk. That was what I was going with.
"Is someone dead?"
"What?" He asked, not sure.
"Is someone dead?" I asked again, this time a little slower than usual. Maybe he had been hit in the head and that was why he was acting slow?
"No-"
"Is someone dying?"
"No-"
"Is the building on fire?"
"No, why-"
"Is the city going to be nuked?"
"What? No, why are-"
"Are there zombies roaming the streets?" I asked, smirking when the man shook his head and finally looked up at me. I saw he had shoulder length, brown hair (which was clean and that was important), and light brown eyes that looked tired and confused. He had stubble lining the lower half of his face, which made him very attractive. I'm tired, so sue me! He removed his hood and gave me a serious look, which let's be honest, never works on a tired woman.
"No. Why are you asking all these questions?" He finally asked. I shrugged and leaned against my door frame, arms crossed over my chest.
"Because those are the only reliable excuses for why you're pounding on my door at 3 a.m." I said, glaring coldly at the man. I don't care if he was attractive, he was costing me my precious sleep and that was a big no-no in my book. And yes, I did say precious in an imitation of Gollum's voice.
"Reliable?" He asked.
"Are you drunk?"
"No. What makes you think that?"
"Are you high?"
"Will you stop asking so many questions?" He said, his voice sounding annoyed. Whatever. Like I care if he's annoyed with me. It should really be the other way around, but right now I'm having too much fun annoying the shit out of him. I just may end up dead because I couldn't stop pressing this guy's buttons.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I'm having too much fun."
"Fun?"
"Yeah."
"You're getting on my nerves."
"So?"
"So, what if I'm a killer and this could make me snap?" He asked, smirking when he thought he had won. Pfft, as if.
"If you were a killer, you would've killed me already." I shot back, effectively wiping that smug smirk off of his face. He was silent as he tried to think of a comeback, and while he did that, I thought of whether or not I could fall back asleep. My answer was a big, fat NO. "Want some coffee?" I asked, turning around and heading towards my kitchen. I may live in an apartment, but it was a kick ass one. Full kitchen with a little breakfast nook that looked out over the bay, small dining room attachment, spacious living room with a small balcony, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. A master and a regular. Yeah, I had an awesome set-up goin' for me. Insert happy smiley face, or whatever face means elated joy/happiness.
"Did you just invite a random stranger into your home for coffee?" The man asked.
"Yeah, problem?" I asked, turning on my coffee machine and inserting a vanilla coffee cup before pressing brew. Keurig, a gift of the gods! Yes, I'm tired and now hyped up. This is normal for me.
"Not really. Coffee sounds good." He said, stepping inside and taking off his coat. I choked a little on my coffee, eying his robotic arm. "What?" He asked, before following my gaze and suddenly looking like a kicked puppy. He looked adorable like that, to be honest. Actually, anytime he frowned he looked like a kicked puppy. Hmm, interesting.
"Whoa..." I said, blinking and shaking my arm, before giving him a wicked grin. "Nice arm, looks pretty wicked." I said, my accent coming in strong.
"Thanks...?" He asked.
"No, that's a good thing."
"How so?"
"Because I have a similar thing. Well, not just one, two actually. Want to see?" I asked, cursing in my mind why I was showing a complete stranger my scars and tats. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? Two weeks of knowing Steve and I still haven't shown him, so what made this dude special?! Was it because he knew a little about what I had gone through?
"What are you talking about?" He asked. I moved around and sat at my little breakfast nook, patting the spot next to me. He hesitantly moved towards me before sitting down. He sat as far away from me as possible, probably thinking I was some kinda thought, or something.
"I don't have a bionic arm, like yourself, but I have something similar. Want to see?" I asked. He nodded slowly. I rolled up my sleeves all the way up to my shoulders and turned my arms up so that my wrists were facing him. I was glad that light had been turned on beforehand, which showed him the stark contrast of my skin paired with the black and blue ink. Traditional Henna tattoos only cover up a small part of the arm and hand, but mind stretched from my shoulders all the way down to my middle fingers. One scar went from the inside of my elbow to my wrist, while the other went from my shoulder and all the way down to the tip of my middle finger. There's a long story that goes to them, but I still wasn't able to think about the...incident...without shaking like a tree in a hurricane.
"Oh shit..." He said, staring straight at them like he had seen them before. Odd...