La Mort et ses Merveilles ✔

9. The Bad Boy is Socially Awkward

La Mort et ses Merveilles

Chapter 9: The Bad Boy is Socially Awkward

Leslie didn't need to stick around after my ankle healed, but he still did. I was fine by my own working on whatever that needs to be done, but he'd pop it from time to time. It's almost as if he wanted to spend time with me. I didn't mind, but he came off as a little weird, eccentric even. Today was one of those days.

"You know," I said, as Leslie walked up to me, plank of plywood in hand. "I could do this myself. You didn't need to do that."

"Well," he replied with a wry smile on his lips. "But I like helping you."

Taking out my trusty hammer, I hit a nail into the panel, attaching it to the ragtag barrier of metal sheets and wood. I was on maintenance duty in the Yard, and I was trying to reinforce the far end of the barrier which hadn't been built as sturdily as the rest of the walls due to the hasty nature it was put up. The people in the Yard sort of delayed its proper construction, probably because from what I've heard ever since they started moving here they never once saw a zombie. I guess the convent's location surrounded by woods and vast meadows helped. From what I observed, the dead seemed to like to congregate in the towns and busy roads. Sometimes one or two would wander off into the countryside, but that wasn't as common. But it wasn't necessarily rare either.

The young man leaned against the wall of a caravan, folding his arms.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" I said, slightly irritated. "Some other things to take care of? Anything else at all?"

The young man let out a slight chuckle.

"I do what I want," he said. "And what I want is to be here with you."

I shot him an annoyed glare, to which he responded with a boyish grin. A mischievous sparkle gleamed in his blue eyes as he tilted his head to the side. Sighing, I turned around and continued hammering away.

"You know," he said. "If you really didn't like me here that much you would have told me to go already."

"I'm trying to work here Leslie," I muttered under my breath through gritted teeth.

The young man only laughed.

But what he said did strike a chord though, somewhere deep within me. Sure, he was irritating and a bit weird to be around with but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I somewhat did enjoy his company. With him being there, he was the only thing my mind could think about.

The next thing I knew, I was reeling back in pain. Hissing as I held my thumb, I could feel it throbbing. The part of my fingernail I hit was reddened, and a small clot of black had begun to form at the site of the impact. It hurt, but lucky for me it could've been worse.

"You alright?" he asked as he rushed up to me.

"Yeah," I muttered, still a bit dazed from what happened. "It's nothing."

Without even asking, he grabbed my hand and examined my thumb. It didn't hurt or anything, just a numb sensation and the slight bruising.

"You sure about that?" he said, his eyebrows frowning as he finally let go of my hand.

I only nodded with a smile. Well, Leslie may be a jerk at times but he seemed to genuinely care for me, so I didn't mind him being around.

"Why don't you just go ahead and rest," he told me, as he took the hammer from my right hand. "Don't want you getting hurt again."

"It's fine, really," I said, as I tried to refuse.

"Just go stand in the corner kid," he replied, a slight grin on his lips.