The Guardian Angel

Chapter-9: Leah

I shifted to get into a better position, sighing contentedly when I found it. With a start, I realized that this bed was much bigger and softer than the one back at Jess' apartment, just before all the events from the previous night came rushing back into my mind.

Damn, I had been stupid. If he hadn't come to help, I would have been on today's news headlines.

He. The guy who had helped me last night. Was it even...... possible? It couldn't have been. I was pretty sure I had seen James. I was also pretty sure he had died in Afghanistan.

1) It was televised to the entire country.
2) However weird it may be, I DID see him die.

I sat upright on the bed and groaned in pain. My head was pounding. This is what I get if I want to have some fun after escaping a daunting marriage with a dumbass.

I heard footsteps coming towards me. I couldn't even open my eyes properly. The owner of those steps pushed a pill and a glass of water into my hand. I swallowed it. Kind of stupid of me, I know. Swallowing a pill from a random person was not the best idea.

I slowly opened my eyes and groaned at the light hitting my face. What the fuck was it? Torture Leah week? I blinked, getting used to the sudden light streaming through the window. Then my eyes settled on the figure leaning against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest. I slowly took his form in. His tanned skin was stark in contrast to the white wall behind him. He wore slack sweatpants and a loose tee, but you could still see the outline of his body through it. His biceps lightly flexed, attached to strong muscular forearms that folded over his chest.

He cleared his throat and I realized I had been staring. Heat rose to my cheeks as I quickly turned my head to hide it.

"How do you feel now?" He asked, his voice impossibly soft than I thought it'd be.

"Terrible." I told dryly, surprising myself with the words coming out of my mouth. I usually never accept it when I feel low.

A chuckle left his lips. A light and airy one, Not those people give just because they have to. I didn't like how it brought me to smile too. Stupid and useless brain.

I got off the bed and stood wringing my hands, uncertain what to do. He shifted from foot to foot, I'm guessing who was also not sure what to do.

He finally said, "You can use the bathroom if you'd like, I'll make us some coffee." I nodded and went into the bathroom, grateful for the time and excuse to gather my thoughts.

The sight in the mirror made me cringe. I was dishevelled, had dark circles under my eyes and my hair jutted out in all directions. I opened the shower and let the water flow down my body, trying to forget all the events from the previous day. Instead, other details came into my mind. Like the one where I snuggled closer into his chest and called him teddy. I was pretty sure that if I had been in front of a mirror, I wouldn't see my face, I would just see a big red tomato that had the size and shape of my head.

Once I was done with the shower, I decided to wear the same clothes as yesterday night. Only because I had to. Not wanted to. People usually don't plan to get attacked in the middle of the night, crash at a dead man's—supposedly— place, shower there and have a cup of coffee before saying, sayonara! Thanks for beating 3 people to death who planned to sexually assault me!

I heard a knock before hearing James' voice from the other side, "Uhm. I have a change of clothes for you here. It is not really used, so u can take it."

I decided to take him up on that, since my dress stank of whiskey. The dress was casual, but it was a girl's dress. I didn't know where he got it from. Probably his girlfriend's or something. That thought disturbed me more than I'd like to admit. Maybe a sister? His mother's?

When I entered the living room from the bedroom, he handed me a mug of steaming coffee. He took one for himself and sat on the sofa. I felt a bit awkward, but still sat and sipped the coffee. It was the least I could do. To not appear rude when he'd saved my life not very long ago. I spared him a glance. He was sipping his coffee, pondering something. His form was stiff and rigid, back arched forward as he kept turning the mug in his hands.

"What were you even doing by that alley?" He asked, making me wince.

"I was.... Drunk and woozy. I came out to get some fresh air and that was when I felt like puking, so I went by that alley. I didn't expect those 3 guys to corner me." Thinking back, I felt I had been stupid. And that was an understatement. Things could have gone very wrong extremely fast. "I don't think I thanked you for helping me. Thanks a lot, if you weren't there, I don't even know what would have happened to me." I added.

"Anybody would do the same." He said calmly, taking a sip of his coffee. That's what made me wonder. No one would do it actually. They would call 911, get some help or do something... I don't know. What they won't do is beat them up and make the girl crash at their place. That's what made me ask my next question.

"They wouldn't have actually, so why did you help me?" I asked, intrigued finding myself shifting closer to him without realizing.

He shrugged and turned to look me right in the eye. I felt the air leave my lungs in a rush at how intense his eyes were. His hazel eyes could make you lose yourself in them for hours and you won't even feel it pass by. But the plain beauty and gorgeousness of it wasn't the only thing that would make you lose yourself in them. It was the sorrow, hidden far beneath. A hint of melancholy that he was used to concealing well. I had always been a good reader when it came to people. Thinking about this, I almost missed what he said next.

"It has more to do with me than you." He spoke. I felt hurt slash through me like a knife against butter. An irrational part of me had wished that he had done it for me. Stop, I thought to myself. You are being crazy. You met this man yesterday. Be sensible. But that was the thing. Nothing I felt was sensible right now. Was it the shock from the previous night? Or was it him?

"Whenever I see someone in danger, I have an urge to save them. It's a habit I've picked up and it just stuck with me." He said, a hint of sadness flashed through his eyes. I wasn't sure what it was, but before I could delve further into it, he shook his head and inched his lips up. There it was, a fake smile.

I remembered what I dreamt. Him tackling another soldier to the ground, knowing that could possibly get him killed. And he had done it twice. First time escaping by just a hair's breadth. But the second time....

Before I could stop myself, I did something totally stupid. Irrational. Absurd. Ridiculous.