【 Stranded 】 Miguel O'Hara

Part 6

- MIGUEL -

"170 Ludlow Street." Miguel said, shutting the door on his side. The taxi driver nodded through the rearview mirror, before reaching behind to point at the paper bag pocketed behind his seat.

"I don't wanna clean up any mess back there." He said, gesturing to Lori.

"I got her." Miguel said. And at his affirmation, the driver started the car.

He looked over to his right, where Lori sat leaning against the window. Her hair was dishevelled, loose strands falling delicately over her closed eyes and flushed cheeks. Drunk to all hell, barely after three drinks.

He watched her contented face as she slept. She had become so quiet after making a ruckus outside the car, insisting they could swing their way home without a cab. Obviously, there was no way that was going to happen without Lori smashing into a building. She had barely even made it inside the car without Miguel keeping her steady.

A small sigh escaped him. He had never imagined that he would be stuck in an unfamiliar dimension looking after a drunk girl when he first chased Chameleon. Yet here he was, settling a paper bag in front of her in case she felt the need to use it. The very same girl he'd meant to be depending on to help him get back to his dimension.

It was infuriating, the way she kept testing him like this. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to dislike her.

Miguel reached out, placing a hand on her bare shoulder to wake her. She was warm.

"Hey kid, you shouldn't be sleeping yet." As peaceful as she looked in her short snooze it wasn't safe. She wasn't sober enough.

She turned to him sluggishly. "I told you... I'm not drunk. Just- tired." She narrowed her eyes at him. "And will you stop calling me that? I'm a...I'm a grown ass woman."

"Grown?" He teased. She was tall for a Filipina girl, but he still towered over her.

She scoffed, but a smile soon adorned her face. "Low blow Migs..."

He groaned slightly at the nickname. He should have been furious—should have scolded her for it. For anyone else he would have done so. But when she smiled like that —with her two dimples on the sides of that smile, the anger would magically subside and be replaced with something else.

And he hated to admit it but he was deathly afraid of that something else.

It was a fact that she was... Attractive. Even if he tried to deny it, he couldn't. Especially after seeing her drifting around in that satin dress that hugged her in all the right places. But that's all it had to be. Attraction. It wasn't anything more. And it couldn't be anything more if Miguel was dedicated to going back to his dimension. There had to be no distractions.

"I'm curious, what did you do while I was gone?" Lori asked slowly, thankfully interrupting his thoughts.

Miguel hesitated. "Took a walk around the exhibit... Saw your paintings properly." Since the first time he saw her painting near the window, her seriousness in her craft had earned some curiosity from him.

"Really?" She tilted her head lazily towards Miguel, eyes lit up. "Well what... What did you think of them?"

He thought for a second, formulating an honest answer. "They're different from what I thought they would be."

Her paintings, they were abstract but not in the dull way that most art was in his dimension. Her's was flowy, light, and contingent. Consistent with her carefree personality. But at the same time, the colours she used were cool-toned and dark, almost as if she had tried to create some distance between her and the viewer. It wasn't completely like her.