Dimensions and Doritos

*3*

I dropped him on my sheets and quickly closed the door and shut the blinds. Whoever did this to him might come back looking to finish the job.

That thought made me gulp nervously as I turned back to my patent.

I hurried to the bed and began to tug at his clothes.

What on earth was he wearing?
Black leather armor thing?
Looks like something from a movie.

I fumbled to get it off but finally succeeded.

And before you freak out- no. He was not nude. He wore a black tank top and knee length shorts under it.

Gosh, this guy must have been dying of heat.

NO! BAD JOKE! SORRY!

I moved to remove his shirt when I saw a dagger strapped to his belt. I swallowed nervously.
Who was this guy?

Certainly not someone you should have brought into your home!

Alone!

Gosh Rosa! Has Home Alone taught you nothing??

I shook away my thoughts and nervously pulled out the dagger, holding it like it was full of toxic waste.

Someone could get hurt with this thing!

Well duh. That's probably why this guy had it.
To hurt someone.

I tossed it over my shoulder and set to work removing his shirt, it stuck to his skin because of the blood, and I felt my stomach roll as the shirt flew behind my shoulder, I saw just how hurt this stranger was.

A huge bruise was blossoming on his chest and a large gash ran up his side. His face was cut up a little and another cut was just below his ribs. I shivered and my face tinged pink.

Well I'm sorry but this was the first time I saw a guy with out a shirt!

Except Caleb of course. But he was my brother so it didn't count.

But seriously, how in earth is this guy so muscular?! He looks no older than me!
He wasn't like the hulk or one of those body builders, but he wasn't an eye-sore. That's for sure.

He kind of reminded my of a leopard, muscular but yet lean.

FOCUS ROSABELLA! HE-IS-DYING! NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE FAN-GIRLING OVER SOME BLOODY STRANGERS ABS!

I jumped back into action and ran to the bathroom where we kept our medicine supplies. I was really clumsy, so I had a whole bunch of stuff.

I came back into my room and placed the kit on my bed, leaning over him.

Dear God, please let that cool surgeon video game that I like to play be enough for me to know what to do.
Amen.

•••
I panted and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I had cleaned the cuts and bandaged them, (I didn't feel up to stitching it) I had placed a ice pack on the bruise and washed his face. All the while him never moving.

It wasn't a lot, but it was enough until I got him to a hospital.

If I survived that long.

Shhhhhhh. Don't think that.

The dude had a dagger! A da-gger! And your telling me not to freak out?

Great... I'm having a conversation with my self.

I sighed and sat on the side of the bed, looking over my new roommates face. He looked so peaceful sleeping, like he didn't have a care in the world.

He had nice features. I wasn't going to lie.

He certainly didn't look like the type of boy to be in this city. That's for sure.

His jet-black hair was straight and reached down to just above his shoulders, I still didn't know what color his eyes were, but I bet they were pretty. A small scar ran across his cheekbone, only adding to my all ready long list of why I shouldn't have helped him.
Why did I help him?

Even I still didn't know the answer to that question. I just had felt the need to help him, to care for him like a mother hen. My fingers subconsciously reached out and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead.

"Who are you?" I whispered aloud, mostly to myself. I sighed and stood up, looking at the pile of bloody clothes and a dagger on my carpet. I peek out the door and saw blood on the floor in a dark trail to the back door.

I groaned and closed my eyes. I had a long day of work ahead of me. Thank god it was summer break.

I so deserved a Dorito after this.
•••

Baxter's POV-
I dreamed of Trix.
Of her soft blonde hair,
Of her sweet voice,
Of the way she always seemed to be smiling.

I dreamed of Dinama.
Of the rainbow sky.
Of the silver sea.

Of home.

I dreamed of my parents.
Of my sister, now dead.
Of my brother, now most likely dead.
Of the war that had split apart my world.

I dreamed of the training I had been put threw, the sound of my fists hitting the punching bag still fresh in my mind. The smell of sweat, of hard work and the hazy red room: filled to the ceiling with weapons.

I rolled over in my sleep, then groaned loudly at the pain that pierced my side. I was to tired to open my eyes, so I grumpily shifted, trying to get more comfortable in this soft, sweet peach smelling bed.

Wait a second....
since when did I sleep in a bed?!

And when did I last smell a real peach?!

Oh well. I'll worry more when I wake up.
----------------------------------------------Heyo! Tully here!

So I hinted a little bit of this mysterious strangers past. And I showed a small peak into the future of this story.

See if you can find it!

~Chow!