Stories of all kinds

TPO - 0.1

"Hey you, what's your name?" asks this young man with indimidating but tired green eyes, his brown curls lay on the small pillow covered in blood. Thank god my healing skills are good enough to save this wondering poor soul.

"Not important" I answer "Once your wounds get a bit better and you will be able to tend to yourself, I will need to leave, I have to get going as soon as possible." I can't leave this weakened man to die.

"I'm Ha-"

"I don't need to know, and keep your breath, you need and will need it"

"Why'd you sav-"

"Shh shhh shh, don't worry, once it was over and I was heading back to a safe place, you were lying there, half-dead, I hesitated on taking you with me to try and save you, but I thought of it nonsense. But my somehow warm-heart forbidded me to leave you to rot. " I explain, knowing his questions.

"Oh, that's nice. Thanks kind person." He smiles. I smile back, neglecting his compliment.

"Here, water, drink." I say as I hand him a flask filled with, well, water.
His tired green eyes slowly shut as he hands me back the flask, he must be so tired, poor lad. I check if he's dying or just falling asleep, he's sleeping, I got scared for a second.

Gosh that battle yesterday was something, what would a man like him be doing there? But I must say, with all the blood off his face, I can see his features more clearly, he seems to be of a similar age as mine. His dimples from when he smiled were the second things I noticed, then the tremendously sharp jawline, his prominent cheeks and bunny teeth. This features all fit him so well I must say. A young man like him definetely does not waste them.

Wait- who is he, he better not be some young FBI agent or some. I look around to try and find any papers.

Ah, there there. A driver's licence.
Lyrah
Setrys
02 January 1994

Unsual name, cool one too though. I decide to continue looking for more information about him, but something's off.

Wait-

Earlier, he said before I cut him off, "I'm Ha-". His name or surname does not begin with Ha, weird, very. Maybe it's a fake name, Lyrah probably is his real. He definitely is in some sort of legal or illegal group if he needs to use a fake name, but why no fake papers then? Very weird. Anyways, his healing is going quite well so far, so I can go on with my life as he can take care of his. I should probably leave him a note, water, bread and bandages.

It's 4:48pm, not to late to go on the move.

I pack my clothes, accessories such as weapons, I leave him the water, bread and bandages with a gun half empty, I don't have anymore bullets left. I leave a note by his side saying:

Nice saving your life, Ha-,
I've left you enough stuff to take care of yourself and hopefully your family or friends will find you safe and sound. Take good care, and don't get into trouble, I don't want to have to find your half dead corpse again!
Goodbye, Your Part Time Nurse and Savior.

I take my leave, hoping he doesn't get himself killed with whatever he's involved with. Kabul, Afghanistan is a dangerous place, this was a small battle within a long war ahead, hopefully both sides will come to their senses.

As I head to a private airport by motorbike, I can't help but notice the people, suffering, crying, grieving, hurting, they have lost so so much. Sadly it won't be over any time soon. I arrive, board my private jet and head to London. Don't worry this plane is armed and shielded.

Approximately 7 hours and 40 minutes later.

Ah, London, the cool fresh air enters and departs my lungs, soon filled with smoke as I lit my cancer stick and breathe in it's nicotine. The flame of the lighter will always be my favorite part, so elegant and beautiful, powerful yet dangerous.