the president's daughter || a chris kendall/crabstickz fanfiction

chillin' || chris kendall

I flipped through the television channels once again, searching for something, anything to watch to keep my mind off of the girl sleeping in the room just down the hallway. What was going on with me? I had met her that day, just hours before and yet I'd been acting as if I'd known her my entire life. Was it just me? Or did she feel it too? It was... weird. I'd never grown this fond of a person so quickly before.

No, "fond" wasn't the right word. I searched for a better word in my mind. Infatuated? No, that wasn't it either. It started with an "in" sound though... Ugh, what was it? I racked my brain for the information I seemed to misplace, as I often did.

And I stopped myself. I shouldn't have been thinking about it so much. I had just run this girl over with my car earlier that day; what I thought of her didn't really matter all that much. I just needed to help her get back on her feet -- and that was all.

The television blinked on and off as I continued browsing, searching for anything decent at all to watch on a Tuesday evening. My efforts were to no avail as I circled back to where I'd begun my search, soon settling for some show I hardly even knew on the BBC.

Interested.

That's the word I was trying to think of: I'd never been so interested in a person before. Every word she spoke seemed to dance across her tongue, and even when she was silent and stiff and distant, the air around her hummed with an unspoken energy of liveliness and heart and raw vitality, unlike in anyone else I'd ever seen.

I sat the remote down beside me and took up my dinner -- a bowl of Chocolate Shreddies -- spooning a bite of it into my mouth. I recalled how clueless she had been at everything I mentioned to her; she didn't know what film was! I couldn't even fathom a life without film. Without it, my life would be completely different. What would I be doing if I didn't have YouTube? How would my life be different?

I didn't even want to think about it honestly.

"Chris."

My head whipped around to see Dezzi standing there. Her emerald eyes met mine as she stood there still in her skinny jeans and flow-y floral pastel pink shirt. Her chestnut hair was matted on one side and went in every direction imaginable, yet she still had that unspoken ethereal glow about her. Her arms wrapped around herself, her cast-wrapped fingers visible, as she stood with one foot behind the other in the lounge room archway. "Dezzi!" I stood quickly, setting my bowl down and rushing over to check on her. I hadn't realized I'd been so worried. That must've been why I kept thinking of her; I was just worried. I felt guilty for what'd happened to her, as I should have. That was it, I convinced myself. "Are you alright? Did you have a good nap?"

My hand instinctively reached out to her. She shrank away from my touch. "Yes sir -- I slept more than adequately," she answered in a drone-like tone. We were back to square one it seemed.

A sigh escaped my lips. "That's good." I took a step back from her with a stutter and a shake of my head. "I know you must've been exhausted." A moment passed where the only thing to be heard were the voices from the television. Her gaze took to the screen, a sense of fascination in her eyes as the colors reflected back in them. "Are you hungry?" I asked, that so-called worry seeping into my tone. She looked back up at me with those green eyes and allowed a single nod of her head. "Oh, alright; let's get you something from the kitchen then, yeah?" The smallest of smiles appeared on her lips; the most genuine I think I'd seen thus far. My heart warmed at the sight.

I turned to go to the kitchen, the girl trailing not far behind. Her bare feet padded softly across the floor as she practically floated through the room; there couldn't have been any more contrast between she and my gangly self.

"What would you like?" I questioned as I opened the fairly desolate refrigerator. "Oh... well, I've got... cheese." I rummaged around in the drawers a little bit, in search of anything decent to feed to the poor girl. "And.. sauces..." She stayed silent. I glanced at her over my shoulder; she stood bathed in the soft fridge light, her hair cascading around her shoulders, framing her face as her eyes shimmered in the dim light. "How about we make a grocery run instead?" I suggested tentatively, unsure of what her response would be. She'd been so shy and closed off thus far. It seemed as though she was just getting used to everything; would she even want to leave the house?

"That sounds exciting," she responded after a moment. Her face lit up along with her eyes. She gazed up at me though her lashes, a small smile lining her lips. Her eyes scrunched up and I could've sworn I saw a dimple on her left cheek.

I smiled back at her. She was contagious. "Alright then; let's go." I closed the fridge, sauntering past her towards the front door, grabbing my keys and wallet. A few moments later, she reappeared with her same heeled boots she was wearing earlier and her backpack strapped around her shoulders. "Don't you have any other shoes? We'll be walking there and back," I said, the concern lacing my tone.

"No, sir-- Chris," she replied, stumbling over her own words. "I don't have any other clothes at all."

My face scrunched up. I didn't exactly know how to describe my emotions at the sound of those words; sadness, confusion, sympathy, concern. "Well I guess we'll just have to get you some, then," I told her determinedly with a nod of my head.

That faint smile appeared once again. "That sounds wonderful," she answered, her voice as warm as the summer day.

I pulled the door open in front of us, holding it open for her as she passed on through. I closed and locked it behind us, taking in the mild weather and the sun shining down from the clear sky overhead: a fairly rare sight in England.

And then there was her. Standing there bathed in the bright evening sunlight, yet somehow she was still the brightest thing my eye could see. It almost hurt to look at her, she was that beautiful. She cast a comforting light on everything surrounding her, including me. Maybe that was why I felt so comfortable with her by my side even though we'd practically only just met. Maybe that was why I felt something new stirring up somewhere deep inside of me. And maybe that was why I felt so much better in that one moment than I ever had in my entire adult life.

I pushed the thoughts away when she walked up to me, taking a hold of my hand as I had done to her earlier, though she was much more graceful about it, gentler, tentative almost. With a curt nod and a gesture of her cast, she spoke. "Lead the way."