Defiance | Book 1 [EXTENDED]

CHAPTER 6

        I woke up the next morning with a yawn, in the same bed I woke up in the other day. I lifted my shirt revealing my stitches, which were thankfully intact and it wasn't bleeding anymore, even though it still stung a little. 

The door was cracked open and I could hear Max whistling downstairs. I got up, my abdomen was aching but better, maybe because I had slept longer than expected. I walked downstairs into a neat kitchen. Max was leaning against the fridge, moving things around. "Morning," he said looking up with a smile,

"How long have I been out?" I asked sitting down at the wooden table and stretching my stiff arms above my head, trying to tame my messed up hair,

"Two days," he said casually, in a matter-of-fact way,

"What?! Two days?! Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You had lost a lot of blood and after the operation you were weak and exhausted and your body needed time to heal itself"

My stomach growled and he just happened to hear it's complaining, "Are you hungry?" he asks pulling out a can of baked beans and sun-dried tomatoes. I felt bad for eating his food but I hadn't eaten in two days and my body couldn't cope. I nodded slowly before he shut the fridge and pulled out a bowl from an overhead cupboard and poured the whole can of baked beans into it as well as half the can of sun dried tomatoes, and handed it to me, 

"Thank you," I looked at him, thankful for everything he had done but I still had my suspicions. I looked at my breakfast and then looked back at him, as he covered the sun dried tomatoes with a sheet of clingfilm and stored it back in the fridge,

"You're not eating?" I asked, picking at a reluctant tomato,

 "Not hungry" he replied sleepily. He walked over and leaned against the table next to me, 

"Thanks again," I said, looking into his warm brown eyes.

He was quiet attractive. He had dark blonde hair and a light stubble across his perfect angular jawline. He looked a year older, maybe two. He was taller than me and muscle ran along his strong arms, not the bulky kind. His smile showed his light dimples and small creases near his eyes. I looked away from his hypnotizing looks, being alone for so long made my emotions jump and move faster than usual, so I had to control myself.

It had been a week and my bullet wound had healed. It was time. I got out of bed quietly and pulled on a grey sweater Max had given me the other day, pulled my backpack over my shoulder, took my gun out and only then did I realize he still had my ammo. It was in his room and I knew if I got caught he would make me stay, but as much as I loved finally being around a human, I was a dead weight and my home wasn't here. I pulled my sneakers on and silently went downstairs, trying to avoid making any sound.

I pushed his half closed door open, looking into his bedroom, he was in bed, his chest moving to his breathing, slow and sound asleep, quietly snoring. I walked in cautiously, stepping with the tips of my toes, avoiding loose floor boards. I opened his bedside drawer and found my guns magazine below a file. The file was a bright yellow and hard to miss, bulging with what seemed like paper. My curiosity took over and I took it out carefully opening it, inside were pictures. Pictures of him in his navy- blue letterman jacket surrounded by stereotypical cheerleaders, some were with his friends, and most with his family. The rest of the file consisted of mainly newspaper articles and maps. I put the file back down and looked back at his still body. I took my gun's ammo and headed towards the door, turning back to look at him before I left, "Goodbye"