Crash Landing [✓]

01

PART ONE — THE MAN ON MY PORCH

Chapter One | DON'T YOU USE TAMPONS?

I've watched an innumerable amount of action movies, about the government and foreign intelligence.

All which consisted of arrogant yet pretty men with guns and the flare for the dramatic; movies which hyper-ly portrayed the life of people who worked for the country in the department of danger, packed with enemies and weapons and gorgeous cars.

I used to say the depiction of those kind of desirable careers were false and utterly exaggerated to the brink where it lacked originality and truth.

So God help me.

Why on earth was there a man — claiming to work for the CIA, currently unconscious, wounded with a bullet wound — in my arms.

Why had he crash landed onto my porch of all places?

And if he really worked for the CIA, why on earth was he telling a measly, boring woman like me? Wasn't that against his policy or something? Wouldn't it pose as a threat if someone was to find out?

Who was to say I wasn't thinking about already running off right this moment and screaming around like a headless chicken, until someone noticed me and believed me that an injured man had wound up on my door step of all places?

"Hello," I anxiously whispered, clutching on to his limp body for dear life. "Mister CIA — or whatever your name is, please open your eyes. Your blood is leaking all over my porch."

His blood all over my porch should have been the least of my worries, perhaps to the majority of people who would have actually come face-to-face with this discomforting situation, their first step was probably struggling to actually do something to help the hot, neighbour guy.

But might I remind you I'm incredibly awkward around hot, neighbour guys? And Mister CIA? Well, he was drool worthy hot. So hot, that if I was to come into proper contact with exposed skin of his, I would sizzle and burn.

It wasn't every day that I had the luxury of being this up close and personal with an all muscle, sky tall, sexy British man-boy. Again, he was hot. So hooooot. Emphasis on the H-O-T.

Lady-boner-giving-hot.

God, I was literally so aroused over how he looked, it was sad. First man to land in my arms and I was already planning our first kiss together and how many children I'd be popping out for him. They would have his hair and my eyes, and be incredibly cute without a doubt.

Toffee scurried away into the house out of fear as I hesitantly dragged Mister CIA's body into the hallway, hauling him into a rather uncomfortable sitting position. I didn't know how to manage it, considering he was so heavy, but I pulled him as if he were a sack of potatoes, wincing as his blood soaked the floor in a long trail.