Do you know what it's like to live in constant fear? To live in the middle of a war zone?
Currently it feels like hiding under a car with an attractive stranger. It feels like cutting yourself on a piece of glass and bleeding uncontrollably.
"Say.. Hey um, my name is Nykel (Ny-kale) ." He whispers in my ear from behind.
I hold my breath.
"My, m-my name is Meraki."
I grip my forearm tightly, trying to lessen the pain and blood flow.
With his body pressed to tightly against me I can feel every hard edge against my back. He's in shape to say the very least.
"Hey, don't get upset. I will get you out of here and we are going to clean up that cut. OK?"
I simply nodded in response. I don't understand his confidence but it's comforting in the least.
A cold wind blows from the east. Subconsciously shuffle myself against Nykel. Once I realise what I was doing I try to pull away but he simple tightens his grip around me.
"So Meraki, is it?" He ponders.
I hum.
"You don't talk much do you? Your not slow are something, not that there's something wrong with that,-"
I giggle and cut him off.
"No, no. I'm just kinda quiet. And a little scared... I guess. I'm sorry."
"It's aight. I guess I'm so used to this that, it's just-" He sighs in a lost for words.
"How long have have you been living in the Cross Roads, Meraki?" He said my name teasingly.
How can he been so charming when our lives are in danger?
"A few months now, -you?"
He a takes a deep breath and releasing it in an exacerbated sigh.
"All my life, Ma'. I'm trying to get out though. I'm trying."
"The Cross Roads is not somewhere I want to settle down and have a family." Nykel adds.
The Nickname for the Vineyard and North Polen intersection is affectionately called the "Cross Road" for being in-between a gang war and some civil rights movement back in the 60s.
I nod with certainty. This place is a home to no one.
Nykel and I shared small talk for another 45 minutes to an hour until we heard an air horn that notifies us that the coast is clear. A few weeks back the community came to together to make an official signal so we can go back inside.
"Stay right here, Ima check to make sure."
As he pushed himself from under the car his hands slid across my stomach and back in a slightly sensual manner.
I found that and the gesture to insure my safety very heart warming and chivalrous.
Once his body left mine I was left with at the mercy of the harsh winds of early November. I look down to check out the throbbing in my arm. The blood had slowed a bit but I was still bleeding out.
I heard a knock on the top of the car.
"Come on out, the coast is clear."
I struggle at first, trying to get from under the car with out injuring my left arm any worse. Once I was out from under the car Nykel helped me to my feet.
That's when I noticed how tell he his. In all honesty I wasn't expecting much because being 5' 10 expect most people to be my height or shorter. But Nykel is a few inches taller than me and it's really refreshing.
Before I could come to my senses I feel his hands brush off the debris that stuck to my clothes while I was underneath the white Toyota.
I return the favor and Nykel looks down at me with glazed over eyes as my right hand brushes over his black shirt. I try my best to ignore his eyes and his amazing body. He was on the slender side but still muscular with broad shoulders and chest. I notice some leaves on the left bottom side off his shirt I went to brush it off and felt hard metal underneath. I try to ignore my error my Nykel grabs my hand tightly and says.
"I think it's time that you get home and clean your self up. Eh?" He raises his eyebrows.
I nod. His hold lingers on my hand then he finally releases me.
