Tomas stood up slowly. Her weight – light, but noticeable. Her hair tickled his neck. The smell – jasmine and blood.
He started walking. Asphalt – cold under his feet.
Third point completed. But why do I feel… something?
The large moon lit the street – silver light fell over the two of them, over their shadows.
– Not far now, – he said quietly. – Past that next building – my home. The apartment. That's where I live.
He turned his head – her head had slumped onto his shoulder. Eyes closed. Breathing – steady.
She fell asleep. Probably exhausted. Shock. Pain.
He quietly unlocked the door. The stairwell – smelled of mold. He entered the apartment. The door closed.
In the bedroom – the bed unmade, blanket crumpled. He laid her down carefully.
He brought the medical kit – old, his father's. Opened it: alcohol, cotton, bandages, ointment with lidocaine.
He cleaned the wounds slowly:
The eyebrow – split, bleeding stopped.
The lip – cut.
Hands – scraped, dirty.
The leg – swollen, ankle dislocated.
Good thing she sleeps deeply. Won't be awkward.
Finished. Put on a bandage. Covered her with the blanket – warm, gray.
He went to the living room. The sofa – cold. He lay down. Closed his eyes.
Today had been an unusual day.
Morning came quietly but brightly. Through the thin, gray curtains, sunlight filtered in – golden, warm, as if trying to awaken a dead room. It fell on the dusty floor, on the tosse clothes, on Tomas' face on the couch – he slept deeply, the blanket slipped to the floor, his hand hanging down, sun light start waking him, Tomas open eyes, again wake up successfully he say for himself with no emotions, probably need to make breakfast i have a quests.
In the bedroom Laura opened her eyes. First instinct – panic.
Where am I? What is this?
She suddenly jumped from the bed – but the leg! Pain shot through her ankle like lightning.
– Ow! – she cried softly, falling back onto the pillow.
Then everything flooded back: The obsidian. The smile. Four men. The scream. The cold face. The punches. The groans. The hands on her back. The warmth.
He… He… helped.
She looked at herself:
Eyebrow – bandaged.
Lip – cut, treated.
Hands – cleaned.
Leg – firmly wrapped, professionally.
God… thank God he's not a bad person.
Smiling for the first time since yesterday, Laura felt warmth in her chest. Her eyes grew wet.
She looked around. The room – messy: shirt on a chair, socks on the floor, the book Abdominal Surgery. But still cozy.
She smelled coffee. Strong, fresh. And bacon – rich, crispy. She heard dishes clinking.
He's cooking? For me?
Slowly, limping, she reached the door and opened it a crack.
Tomas. His back to her. The sun lit his broad shoulders and lean waist under the gray T-shirt. His hands moved precisely: stirring eggs, flipping bacon, pouring coffee.
– Good morning, – she said softly.
Tomas turned around. His face – cold, eyes empty.
– Bathroom's on the left. Go wash up. Come eat. I left you a shirt in there. Yours are torn.
She blushed.
– Mhm… thank you.
The bathroom mirror showed her fully: messy hair, cut eyebrow, swollen lip.
I look like after a fight. Again. Typical.
She washed up. Put on Tomas' shirt – big, gray, smelling like him.
In the kitchen Tomas placed steaming breakfast on the table.
– The shirt suits you. Don't wait until it gets cold.
Laura's eyes sparkled.
– I don't remember the last time I had breakfast like this…
– By the way… what's your name? – she asked.
– Tomas.
– I'm Laura. Thank you for yesterday. You… saved me.
– Mhm. You're welcome.
They ate in silence. Coffee steamed between them.
– How's the leg? – Tomas asked.
– Better. What you did really helped. You… definitely know what you're doing.
– Good. When you finish, I'll call a taxi. Your phone's broken. If you want to make a call – use mine.
She smiled warmly.
– Thank you. No need. I'll manage.
Tomas collected the dishes. His movements precise.
Why is he so cold? Sad? That laugh yesterday… was that him? Why?
– Ready to go? – he asked.
– Ah? Yes! – she jumped.
The phone rang.
– Yes? … Okay, I'll be there in an hour, – Tomas hung up. – I have work. I'll walk you.
– All right, – Laura smiled.
While he changed clothes, she looked around the apartment. Books. Sofa. Dusty TV. A photograph – a family. A child with the shadow of green eyes. Tomas?
Suddenly his voice behind her:
– All right. Time to go.
She startled and tripped over a box. Started falling. Tomas caught her. Hands on her waist. Her hands on his chest. Faces close.
Those eyes… so cold. But beautiful…
He felt a heartbeat – strangely strong.
They both stepped back quickly.
– Time to get to work, – Tomas said.
– Okay… let's go, – Laura stammered
They left the apartment. Went down the stairs – Tomas in front, Laura limping behind him. The street – sunny, but cold. Leaves rustled under their feet.
Tomas took out 50$. Handed it to her.
– Take it. You'll need it for a bus or a taxi.
We probably won't see each other again.
Laura froze. No one had helped her so sincerely in a long time. Her eyes grew wet.
– Thank you very much for everything. I really won't forget it. And… I'll repay you. I promise.
Tomas nodded. Coldly, but his eyes softened for a moment.
– No need.
– It's necessary. At Obsidian. Come, – Laura said quietly, but firmly.
Tomas thought:
I completed a point from the list. The third one – help a stranger. Now I can peacefully…
But something inside whispered:
What if not?
They went in different directions.
He – to the store.
She – into the unknown.
And the list… wasn't finished yet.