Blue Comes Through

Chapter Six

It is of course, knicker guy or as I now know, Finn. When a girl is feeling a bit sad and vulnerable, a smirking cocky guy is just what she needs, a gorgeous one too.

Framed against the rosy sky he's as attractive as my first impression in light of the street lamps last night. He's wearing dark jeans and a thick dark hoodie, hands tucked into his pockets. He doesn't have the smirk of last night though. He's smiling a friendly smile that reveals that one dimple, but as he notices my tears, the smile fades and his brow furrows.

"Are you ok?" He asks, his voice is low and concerned.

I manage a far too bright smile and do a nodding dog impression, before rubbing the backs of my hands across my face. He watches it all, looking slightly sceptical before walking around the bench and sitting beside me. I catch a waft of something fresh and citrusy as he brushes past me and I can feel his warmth across the small gap separating us. The bench suddenly feels a lot smaller and I resist the urge to inch further along away from him.

I bristle at the intrusion and his lack of sensitivity. Why can't he just walk on?

He seems oblivious though, stretching his long legs out in front of him and relaxing down in the seat as he watches the sunset.

Wilf runs into view and is sniffing around the grassy knolls, no doubt looking for rabbits. He wanders over and gives Will an interested sniff. There's no response though. Will must be sleeping. Wilf moves to me, putting his head on my lap. I run my fingers over his head and silky ears and he moves closer, sitting and pressing against my legs as I continue to fuss him. He's a comforting distraction from the tall lean figure beside me

I need to leave but a ridiculous politeness is stopping me from just standing and walking away.

"This is a great spot to watch the sunset." His low voice interrupts my thoughts. I can't trace his accent; it's definitely not local though. He's almost accent less, so middle England maybe.

"Wilf runs around all day on the beach but he insists on an evening walk. If the weather's good, I try and time it that we're passing Elsie and Albert to watch the sunset."

It seems odd that he mentions the couple I've just been crying over, but why would it? I'm sure many people read the plaque. Such sensitivity seems at odds with my first impression of him as I grappled with him over those awful knickers. I don't comment though and we sit for a few minutes, with just the noise of the waves and the wind breaking the silence. The sun has half disappeared below the horizon and a perfect semi circle of bright orange sits on top. The sky around is darkening and the sun is perfectly defined against the inky backdrop.

I feel awkward. I can find no small talk at all. I'm racking my brain for something, anything, when he interrupts my thoughts.

"Do you need to see a doctor or the police?" He asks the question softly, not looking at me and it takes me a second to register what he asked.

I gasp and turn to glare at him, but he ignores my indignation. He turns towards me and I see his eyes running over my face and then lower.

"Is it just your face? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

I gape at him. My befuddled brain struggles to frame a response. He has rendered me speechless with such a direct question. The first words into my head are short and to the point and very rude, but for some reason I hold back. We just sit and stare at each other.

I don't know if it's the semi darkness, the stunning sunset, the soothing sound of the sea or the affectionate dog leaning against me, but as we look at each other, my prickly defensive mood eases a little.