"Thank you for walking me home." I smile up at my boyfriend, Justin. He looks down at me, bright eyes connecting with mine. His eyebrows knit together, arm wrapped around my waist securely -
"There's still a way to go. Are you sure you want me to leave you here?"
I smile at how over-protective he is. It's one of the things I adore about him. I nod my head, my dark curls bobbing around my shoulders.
"Of course, it's like a two minute walk up this road. It's late, you should go."
I lean up and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing the back of his head so that his lips meet mine. He kisses me slowly, his hands resting against the waistband of my shorts. I pull back and rest my forehead against his, looking into his blue eyes.
"Happy one year anniversary," I murmur, the smile permanently fixed on my face. Justin traces the skin that's exposed around my stomach, his fingers causing me to shiver in the dark night.
"Happy one year baby," he whispers, pulling away from me. He kisses two of his fingers before reaching over and placing them on my lips . . . just like he does every time we say goodbye.
"Catch you later." He smiles before turning around and sauntering off down the street. I watch him go for a few minutes, admiring his beauty from afar. I turn back around, my thoughts spinning with the memories we created tonight. My lips are set into a permanent smile as I continue the rest of the short walk home. It's past midnight, the tree's lining the street swaying softly to and fro from the light summer breeze. I can still smell the heat in the air and I inhale deeply, loving the scent.
I'm only a few doors away from home, I can see my little red car parked in front. The curtains are drawn and I know Mum and Dad would be sleeping. There's was a little spring in my step as I hum to myself, bending down to tie my shoelace. It had become undone and I didn't fancy face planting the floor.
The low rumble of a car engine can be heard coming up the road behind me but I ignore it, thinking it would pass. It continues to grow louder as it approaches, music blaring from inside. The car slows down, irritated voices coming from inside it. I turn my head briefly, glancing warily from the corner of my eye. It's a dark blue sedan, the windows completely blacked out. I feel my heart begin to race as the sound of male voices can be heard coming from the inside. The door suddenly swings open and I watch in horror as a figure is thrown out of it, onto the street.
I quickly scurry to hide in the shadows, my heart thumping wildly against my chest. The figure groans loudly, hitting his head hard against the concrete as he falls. The car door immediately slams shut and speeds off down the road, leaving him rolling around the floor in pain. My eyes widen and I back further up into the wall, remaining hidden.
The dark figure kneels onto his knees, coughing and spluttering. He doesn't know I'm watching him. I turn to see the distance between here and my door, a few seconds if I run. I don't want him to see me incase he's dangerous so I figure I'd wait until he's gone. The street lamp next to him illuminated his appearance and he stands to his knees, clutching his stomach tightly. My eyes widened further as I notice a deep cut on his forehead, bleeding down the side of his face.
His complexion is golden, tanned. Almost as if he's been on a three month holiday. My eyes widen like two saucers as I notice the structure of his sharp jawline. His eyes are large and the colour of hazelnut, complete with a set of thick lashes. Even with the pain on his face, he's not a bad sight to look at.
He wavers a little on his feet, small sounds of discomfort coming from him. He's wearing a plain grey shirt, the fabric clinging to his shoulders and back. The rest of his look is all black, skinny jeans and trainers. A leather jacket is lying on the floor next to him. My eyes travel down his exposed inked arm, the skin covered in multiple dark tattoo's. The only ones I can make out are the detailing of skulls. . . I'm too far away to see any others.
My grip on my house keys tighten and I position one between my fingers as self defence. You can't trust anyone these days.
I realise as he stands up straight how tall this guy is. His broad shoulders and wide stance screams danger and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that he doesn't find me lurking in the shadows. He doesn't make an attempt to move, groaning in pain as he lifts up his top to inspect the damage. My breathing hitches in my throat as my eyes scan over his body.
Tanned, muscular, toned.
His stomach ripples as he moves and I feel my mouth dry out, averting my gaze. It feels wrong. Another sound of discomfort comes from him and I turn back to find him leaning against the wall, inhaling deeply. He doesn't look too good. The blood on the side of his face is travelling down his neck and I chew on my lower lip, uncertain of what I should do.
Should I call an ambulance?
I slowly stand to my feet, the grip on my keys tightening. He doesn't hear me and I think about making a run for it now. I can feel my heart beating in my ears, adrenaline running through my body. As soon as I take a step forward, he freezes and spins around. I can't help but freeze on the spot, my eyes wide as if I've been caught in a lie. He simply stares at me, dark eyes narrowing.
My heart stops beating for a moment and I blink several times, both of us staring at each other silently.
"Who are you?" He asks, breaking the silence between us. His voice is a low rumble, smooth and velvety. I swallow the lump in my throat, glancing around for anyone who can save me. The street is deserted, no-one but him and I.
"I have to go," I mutter, fear building up inside my stomach. I turn to walk away, walk those few steps until I can be safe.
I immediately freeze, turning back around to find him taking slow steps towards me. My eyes widen further and I open my mouth to protest but no words come out. I'm frozen in fear, rooted to the spot. His steps are slow, his face contorting in pain as he drags himself towards me. I take a step back and he narrows his eyes further, one perfect eyebrow raising at my action.
"Don't even think about running, hermosa."
I suck in a deep breath, the grip on my keys tightening.
"I don't speak Spanish." I mutter dumbly, my thoughts buzzing inside my head. Why didn't I let Justin walk me straight home?
He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting in the dark night. His hand is still clutching onto his stomach and he stops approaching me once he's a few feet away.
"You don't speak Spanish yet you know I was speaking Spanish."
I drop my eyes to the floor, his burning gaze causing goosebumps to travel up my skin. The safety voice inside my head was screaming at me to run, my legs twitching to get away from the danger.
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you."
Despite his injuries, his voice is strong, confident. He reeks of self-love and arrogance.
"Don't come any closer." I warn him, my voice trembling as I raise the key in my hand to show him I'm armed. He takes a look at the key wrapped tightly between my fingers before his eyes travel to meet mine. I start trembling, my hands shaking by my side. His lips begin to twitch before he lets out a low chuckle, wincing in pain as he does. I frown at him and take a step forward, showing him I'm not scared.
I really am scared, I'm terrified.
"You don't think I'll hurt you? Seriously, get away from me." I warn, firmer this time. He holds his free hand in the air, his features contorting in pain. I watch in awe as he lifts his shirt up, removing his hand that was clutching at his skin.
"You're going to stab me hermosa? Someone's already beaten you to it." He murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as he falls to the floor. That's when I notice the blood seeping it's way onto his shirt, staining deep inside the fabric. A small scream escapes from my mouth and I slap my hand over it.
"Oh my god, oh my god."
I can't just leave him here!
I pull my phone out of my pocket, dialling emergency services. Within seconds, a lady on the other line answers.
"Nine, nine, nine. What's your emergency?"
"A man has been stabbed. Outside my house. Address is forty nine High Court Road, I don't know what to do!" I panic, my eyes wide in fear.
"Is the attacker still there?"
"No." I reply, remembering how the car sped off quickly down the road. He was lying still on the floor, his eyes firmly shut.
"Is the victim still breathing?"
"I don't know!"
"You need to go check, what's your name?"
"My name is Ariana."
"Okay Ariana. I need you to check for a pulse. Can you do that?" She asks me, her instructions firm and clear. I inhale a sharp intake of breath in, taking a few steps towards him.
"He's a stranger. I don't know who he is." I whimper, watching him lie completely still on the floor.
"Ariana, you can save his life. You need to check for a pulse and apply pressure to the wound. The ambulance service will be there in a few minutes. Stay calm."
I nod profusely even though I know she can't see me. My legs are trembling as I fall to his side, my fingers pressing against his throat. His skin is smooth, warm. I feel like he's about to jump up at me any second and grab me before laughing that it was all a joke.
"He has a pulse," I say into the phone, putting it down onto the ground before pressing the speaker button. The advisors voice fills the silence around me.
"Find the source of the bleeding and apply pressure."
I look around desperately for anything to use and scramble for his jacket that's lying a few feet away from him. My hand flimsily tug his shirt up to expose his bare stomach and I suck in another deep breath, feeling like I'm committing a sexual assault. The stab wound underneath his chest is staring back at me, blood seeping out of it. I quickly turn his jacket inside out and use the soft material on the inside to press against his body. The bleeding is everywhere, all over his golden skin, staining it.
"Now what do I do?" I yell into my phone, searching up and down the road for some help.
"Try to wake him up, keep him talking. He needs to stay conscious, paramedics will be arriving shortly. You're doing great, Ariana."
I look at his face, his eyebrows creased together in pain. He isn't moving, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. I reach towards his face, leaning down so that my ear is next to his mouth. His scent immediately ravels around me and I swoon slightly, my mind turning blank for a few seconds. I continue to apply pressure on his stab wound with one hand and I touch his cheek with my other, trying to wake him up.
"Sir?" I ask desperately, the warmth of his cheek running through my trembling hands. He doesn't respond.
"Mr Spanish Guy?" I try again, lightly slapping his cheek.
"Mr really hot Spanish Guy?"
I'm getting desperate, scared that he's going to die right now, in front of me. He groans loudly and I jump backwards, my eyes widening in panic. His eyes flicker open briefly, swirls of chocolate staring back at me.
"You're not too bad yourself hermosa." He smirks, his eyes rolling around his head as he drifts in and out of consciousness. My mouth flies open in shock but I continue to apply pressure, the blood destroying everything around us.
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" He mutters, his words barely audible. I shake my head, determination settling inside me.
"No, you're not." I say firmly, the faint sound of sirens in the distance. I look up at the sky, tears of frustration running down my cheeks.
My hands are covered in blood. My arms are covered in blood. My clothes are soaked in blood.
I can still taste the blood in the air minutes later when the ambulance arrive, rushing both of us into the back of the van and slamming the doors. We zoom through the streets, sirens blaring loudly as they fight to save his life.