You come crash into me
And I come into you
I come into you
In a boy's dream
In a boy's dream
(The following is cross-posted from Of Gall and Grangers and is based on live role-play with Paige's awesome player. Lyrics from "Crash into Me" by the Dave Matthews Band.)
~~~~~
The streets were dark and there was rolling thunder off in the distance. Rain began to fall as if the skies were crying for her. Well if that just didn't complete her evening. The sheer plum fabric was soaking up the rain like a hungry sponge. Hurrying down the street with only the rain and murky street lamps to keep her company, Paige tried to work out her next course of action. With the idea of bunking in the inn for the night, if just to get a night's rest, she started there.
She would need to call work and see if Fiora had returned. How was she going to explain things to her boss" So lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize a car was barreling her way until it was too late. There was nothing she could do and thus stood there like a deer caught in a hunter's sight.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEECCHHH! CRASH!
A rushing sigh of relief left her when she was left intact, the car swerving to barely miss her. Close enough that she felt it breeze by. Once the shock faded she looked to find a beautiful black Mustang nose deep against the half-bent light post. Throwing her safety aside she quickly ran over and knocked on the driver side window. "Oh my gosh! Are you okay?"
When she was given no answer she reached to pull the door open. The first thing she was greeted with was Ronnie Van Zant singing "Free Bird". There, bent over the wheel, was a young man. She couldn't make out much of him but she saw that there was blood involved. He already looked banged up by the bandaged hand that hung at his side.
He groaned, startling her into action. "Oh no you don't. Take it easy." Reaching out she eased him back into the seat so she could better assess where the bleeding was coming from which seemed to be his forehead. "You are bleeding." She voiced her concern as well as letting him know the reason why she was being so cautious.
"Can you speak" Do you know your name?" The concern grew as she asked the questions. What if he had a terrible concussion' It only came to her a few minutes later that he could've been a hit man hired by Junior to 'properly' be rid of her. It didn't matter. He was injured and she had to help.
"What....happened?" he asked, his voice strained and thick with grogginess. "Who're you?"
He sounded terrible and she couldn't see him all that well or she would claim he looked just as bad as he sounded. The over layer of her dress was removed. Pain shot through the broken hand as she forced it to work, stripping away a piece of the fabric. She moaned at the pain but tried to work past it by dabbing at the blood that was dribbling into the young man's eye. "You almost hit me. Never mind that. Do you remember your own name?"
"What the hell were you doing in the street?" he managed to ask, though the words were strained and faint and it seemed to take a supreme effort to say even that much. "How bad is it?"
"I was on the sidewalk, dork." He wouldn't give her a name so she gave him one. "I don't know. You won't answer my question." She dabbed a few times carefully at his head, pressing into the wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding. "It doesn't look too bad. If I had a first aid kit I could patch you up but just to be on the safe side we should get you to the hospital. In case you have a concussion."
He scowled, probably for the nickname she chose for him. She watched as his hand found his chest. "Not that bad," he muttered. "I'll be fine." He straightened, wincing in obvious pain.
"You are a stubborn boy aren't you? Hey! No you don't!" She found herself pushing him back into the seat. Her hands were all but moving on their own. "Do you have a cellphone at least' Someone I can call for you?" She needed to do something to staunch that head wound and since she was short on supply she decided to do the only thing she could. Dropping the blood soaked cloth she flinched and started to tear the rest of the cloth into one long strip which she used, even if he disagreed to it, to wrap around his forehead and the wound.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, seemingly more to himself than her.
His eyes opened and she noticed him watching her rather closely while she worked on his head. Who knew what was going through that head of his if anything at all. She was a snake with two heads" Tying off the ends she checked her handiwork. "Paige."
"Dean," he returned the favor, exchanging names, frowning at her while she fussed over him. "I'm sorry I almost hit you. I....couldn't see."
His apology threw her off and how could she be mad at him now" Her delicate face softened and she gave him a warm smile to show that she held no hard feelings "Dean." She repeated his name. For now she could forget her own problems and help tend to his. "You should be more careful. If you are such a terrible driver maybe you shouldn't be driving such a nice car." Such a wrong time to tease and she knew it but was trying so hard to lighten the mood.
"I'm not a bad driver and I'm not a boy either," he contradicted, narrowing his eyes at her. "Crap. My car." He reached for his car keys, hand still shaking, and pulled them from the ignition, shutting down the engine, the music dying, the only sound that of the rain and approaching thunder.
Yeah, whatever. She nearly rolled her eyes at him and said it. Instead she gave a dainty laugh. It was either at his overall denial or the fact he was suddenly worried about his car. Reaching out with her good hand she pressed her fingertips against his arm, having to lean somewhat into the car to stop his movement. "Your car can be repaired. You need to take it easy, Dean."
She leaned back out of the car to assess the damage but not only that, she was getting soaked and he was in no condition to drive. Seconds passed before her head popped back in. "Move over. I'll drive you home."
"Why are you helping me when I almost hit you?" he asked, turning hazel green eyes that looked a little too dilated toward her, curiously.
The question, while sudden, was an easy one to answer. She tried to nudge him into the passenger seat so she could slide in and get out of the rain. "You are hurt and it was an accident. Unless you were trying to hit me?"
"I wasn't trying to hit you." He studied her a moment, as if deciding what to do. He seemed to decide finally, realizing he was in no shape to drive himself and handed her the keys, sliding over into the passenger seat. "How old are you?" he asked curiously as he settled himself into the seat.
She waited while he slid over before sliding into the warmed driver seat. The door was quickly closed and she pulled the soaked end of her gown from her ankles. "Could you put the keys into the ig-" She stopped in mid sentence. His question had her turning her eyes to him for a good old stare. "You know it is very rude to ask a lady her age." She gestured to the ignition. "Turn the engine for me please?"
He snorted. "A lady?" He looked her over, and she could feel his eyes on her again. "What are you, sixteen?" An odd question coming from a boy who didn't look much older than that himself. "Thought you knew how to drive," he grumbled, reaching for the keys and shoving one of them into the ignition, turning it to set the engine rumbling. "You going to the prom or something?"
"I'm 19! And no." She giggled at the idea of prom and carefully pulled the car back from the partly bent pole. "I was performing today in a concert." She realized once on the road that she had no clue where she was going. "Where to?"
"WestEnd," he told her, looking her over again.
"WestEnd. Now you are going to need to stay awake and give me directions. That and if you've a concussion that would be bad." Her bad hand settled into her lap while the other held the wheel firmly.
"Are you an angel?"
The question was preposterous. She was soaked head to toe and figured herself to make a wet rat look more like an angel. As much as she wanted to look at him as if he had lost his mind she kept her eyes on the road. "An angel" Me" No." She wanted to ask why he'd asked the question but it would have to wait.
"Good, I've never had much luck with angels." He frowned. "You should have that looked at," he remarked, "Doesn't look good."
She could feel his eyes still on her. She tried to concentrate without asking him what his problem was. "Is that why you asked me if I was one?" When they hit WestEnd she slowed the car, awaiting directions. "Hm?" Her eyes went to him and once she realized he was speaking about her hand she lowered her eyes to the hand settled in her lap. The memories flooded and her eyes shot up with a heavy frown to follow. "I guess I should but it has waited this long. It can wait till you are safe and sound at your home." She didn't smile but attempted to use her words to convey her concern.
"No, you just..." he trailed off, not answering her question. "Go right at the next intersection." He wearily rolled his head to look back at her. "I'm sorry."
"For almost hitting me?" She chuckled at him and did as she was told. Since it wasn't her car she was taking every precaution she could. "Don't worry about that. Although I am curious to why you were not paying attention to the road."
"I hurt you..." he told her quietly.
He was assuming her injuries were because of him. Her eyes turned from the window to him and she could tell not only in his tone but the expression he wore that he was truly sorry. Her eyes returned to the window, "No you didn't. These...This was before. A few hours ago. See! Told you not to worry. Now stop giving me those puppy dog eyes."
"Oh."
The single word sounded distant to her and she found herself glancing sparsely over to him to make sure he was awake.
"Turn left at the next street. The loft's on the right." He gave her the street address.
A nod of understanding and she smiled. She found his concern kind of sweet and very kind. When she got to the loft she leaned to one side in order to turn the engine off with her good hand. She turned to him, squinting a bit to make sure he was still awake and aware. Pulling the keys out she offered them over. "Do you need help inside?" She found his eyes were closed and her heart pounded hard in panic.
His eyes open again, his voice sounding a little weak. "No, I'll be fine."
She nearly had a heart attack and was just about to reach out to shake him senseless. A sigh of relief and she shook her head when he spoke. "Is the door key on this ring?" She shook the keys out and opened the driver's door while she waited for his answer.
"Yeah," he answered, not moving from the spot, though he'd told her he'd be fine.
"Good." She swept out of the car and sent the door closed with a soft nudge of palm. Walking around the car she opened the passenger side and reached out to curl her small hand under his bicep. "Come on. I am not going to leave until I know you are safe inside."
(The following is cross-posted from Of Gall and Grangers and is based on live role-play with Paige's awesome player. Lyrics from "Crash into Me" by the Dave Matthews Band.)
~~~~~
The streets were dark and there was rolling thunder off in the distance. Rain began to fall as if the skies were crying for her. Well if that just didn't complete her evening. The sheer plum fabric was soaking up the rain like a hungry sponge. Hurrying down the street with only the rain and murky street lamps to keep her company, Paige tried to work out her next course of action. With the idea of bunking in the inn for the night, if just to get a night's rest, she started there.
She would need to call work and see if Fiora had returned. How was she going to explain things to her boss" So lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize a car was barreling her way until it was too late. There was nothing she could do and thus stood there like a deer caught in a hunter's sight.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEECCHHH! CRASH!
A rushing sigh of relief left her when she was left intact, the car swerving to barely miss her. Close enough that she felt it breeze by. Once the shock faded she looked to find a beautiful black Mustang nose deep against the half-bent light post. Throwing her safety aside she quickly ran over and knocked on the driver side window. "Oh my gosh! Are you okay?"
When she was given no answer she reached to pull the door open. The first thing she was greeted with was Ronnie Van Zant singing "Free Bird". There, bent over the wheel, was a young man. She couldn't make out much of him but she saw that there was blood involved. He already looked banged up by the bandaged hand that hung at his side.
He groaned, startling her into action. "Oh no you don't. Take it easy." Reaching out she eased him back into the seat so she could better assess where the bleeding was coming from which seemed to be his forehead. "You are bleeding." She voiced her concern as well as letting him know the reason why she was being so cautious.
"Can you speak" Do you know your name?" The concern grew as she asked the questions. What if he had a terrible concussion' It only came to her a few minutes later that he could've been a hit man hired by Junior to 'properly' be rid of her. It didn't matter. He was injured and she had to help.
"What....happened?" he asked, his voice strained and thick with grogginess. "Who're you?"
He sounded terrible and she couldn't see him all that well or she would claim he looked just as bad as he sounded. The over layer of her dress was removed. Pain shot through the broken hand as she forced it to work, stripping away a piece of the fabric. She moaned at the pain but tried to work past it by dabbing at the blood that was dribbling into the young man's eye. "You almost hit me. Never mind that. Do you remember your own name?"
"What the hell were you doing in the street?" he managed to ask, though the words were strained and faint and it seemed to take a supreme effort to say even that much. "How bad is it?"
"I was on the sidewalk, dork." He wouldn't give her a name so she gave him one. "I don't know. You won't answer my question." She dabbed a few times carefully at his head, pressing into the wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding. "It doesn't look too bad. If I had a first aid kit I could patch you up but just to be on the safe side we should get you to the hospital. In case you have a concussion."
He scowled, probably for the nickname she chose for him. She watched as his hand found his chest. "Not that bad," he muttered. "I'll be fine." He straightened, wincing in obvious pain.
"You are a stubborn boy aren't you? Hey! No you don't!" She found herself pushing him back into the seat. Her hands were all but moving on their own. "Do you have a cellphone at least' Someone I can call for you?" She needed to do something to staunch that head wound and since she was short on supply she decided to do the only thing she could. Dropping the blood soaked cloth she flinched and started to tear the rest of the cloth into one long strip which she used, even if he disagreed to it, to wrap around his forehead and the wound.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, seemingly more to himself than her.
His eyes opened and she noticed him watching her rather closely while she worked on his head. Who knew what was going through that head of his if anything at all. She was a snake with two heads" Tying off the ends she checked her handiwork. "Paige."
"Dean," he returned the favor, exchanging names, frowning at her while she fussed over him. "I'm sorry I almost hit you. I....couldn't see."
His apology threw her off and how could she be mad at him now" Her delicate face softened and she gave him a warm smile to show that she held no hard feelings "Dean." She repeated his name. For now she could forget her own problems and help tend to his. "You should be more careful. If you are such a terrible driver maybe you shouldn't be driving such a nice car." Such a wrong time to tease and she knew it but was trying so hard to lighten the mood.
"I'm not a bad driver and I'm not a boy either," he contradicted, narrowing his eyes at her. "Crap. My car." He reached for his car keys, hand still shaking, and pulled them from the ignition, shutting down the engine, the music dying, the only sound that of the rain and approaching thunder.
Yeah, whatever. She nearly rolled her eyes at him and said it. Instead she gave a dainty laugh. It was either at his overall denial or the fact he was suddenly worried about his car. Reaching out with her good hand she pressed her fingertips against his arm, having to lean somewhat into the car to stop his movement. "Your car can be repaired. You need to take it easy, Dean."
She leaned back out of the car to assess the damage but not only that, she was getting soaked and he was in no condition to drive. Seconds passed before her head popped back in. "Move over. I'll drive you home."
"Why are you helping me when I almost hit you?" he asked, turning hazel green eyes that looked a little too dilated toward her, curiously.
The question, while sudden, was an easy one to answer. She tried to nudge him into the passenger seat so she could slide in and get out of the rain. "You are hurt and it was an accident. Unless you were trying to hit me?"
"I wasn't trying to hit you." He studied her a moment, as if deciding what to do. He seemed to decide finally, realizing he was in no shape to drive himself and handed her the keys, sliding over into the passenger seat. "How old are you?" he asked curiously as he settled himself into the seat.
She waited while he slid over before sliding into the warmed driver seat. The door was quickly closed and she pulled the soaked end of her gown from her ankles. "Could you put the keys into the ig-" She stopped in mid sentence. His question had her turning her eyes to him for a good old stare. "You know it is very rude to ask a lady her age." She gestured to the ignition. "Turn the engine for me please?"
He snorted. "A lady?" He looked her over, and she could feel his eyes on her again. "What are you, sixteen?" An odd question coming from a boy who didn't look much older than that himself. "Thought you knew how to drive," he grumbled, reaching for the keys and shoving one of them into the ignition, turning it to set the engine rumbling. "You going to the prom or something?"
"I'm 19! And no." She giggled at the idea of prom and carefully pulled the car back from the partly bent pole. "I was performing today in a concert." She realized once on the road that she had no clue where she was going. "Where to?"
"WestEnd," he told her, looking her over again.
"WestEnd. Now you are going to need to stay awake and give me directions. That and if you've a concussion that would be bad." Her bad hand settled into her lap while the other held the wheel firmly.
"Are you an angel?"
The question was preposterous. She was soaked head to toe and figured herself to make a wet rat look more like an angel. As much as she wanted to look at him as if he had lost his mind she kept her eyes on the road. "An angel" Me" No." She wanted to ask why he'd asked the question but it would have to wait.
"Good, I've never had much luck with angels." He frowned. "You should have that looked at," he remarked, "Doesn't look good."
She could feel his eyes still on her. She tried to concentrate without asking him what his problem was. "Is that why you asked me if I was one?" When they hit WestEnd she slowed the car, awaiting directions. "Hm?" Her eyes went to him and once she realized he was speaking about her hand she lowered her eyes to the hand settled in her lap. The memories flooded and her eyes shot up with a heavy frown to follow. "I guess I should but it has waited this long. It can wait till you are safe and sound at your home." She didn't smile but attempted to use her words to convey her concern.
"No, you just..." he trailed off, not answering her question. "Go right at the next intersection." He wearily rolled his head to look back at her. "I'm sorry."
"For almost hitting me?" She chuckled at him and did as she was told. Since it wasn't her car she was taking every precaution she could. "Don't worry about that. Although I am curious to why you were not paying attention to the road."
"I hurt you..." he told her quietly.
He was assuming her injuries were because of him. Her eyes turned from the window to him and she could tell not only in his tone but the expression he wore that he was truly sorry. Her eyes returned to the window, "No you didn't. These...This was before. A few hours ago. See! Told you not to worry. Now stop giving me those puppy dog eyes."
"Oh."
The single word sounded distant to her and she found herself glancing sparsely over to him to make sure he was awake.
"Turn left at the next street. The loft's on the right." He gave her the street address.
A nod of understanding and she smiled. She found his concern kind of sweet and very kind. When she got to the loft she leaned to one side in order to turn the engine off with her good hand. She turned to him, squinting a bit to make sure he was still awake and aware. Pulling the keys out she offered them over. "Do you need help inside?" She found his eyes were closed and her heart pounded hard in panic.
His eyes open again, his voice sounding a little weak. "No, I'll be fine."
She nearly had a heart attack and was just about to reach out to shake him senseless. A sigh of relief and she shook her head when he spoke. "Is the door key on this ring?" She shook the keys out and opened the driver's door while she waited for his answer.
"Yeah," he answered, not moving from the spot, though he'd told her he'd be fine.
"Good." She swept out of the car and sent the door closed with a soft nudge of palm. Walking around the car she opened the passenger side and reached out to curl her small hand under his bicep. "Come on. I am not going to leave until I know you are safe inside."