It's just another morning. My alarm goes off at exactly 7:30 AM and that's my cue to get ready. I drag myself out of bed and walk to the coffee maker as usual, shoveling a piece of toast down my throat. Making my way to the steamy bathroom I strip out of my pajamas. The shower is scoulding hot just as I like it. I wash myself and quickly get out of the shower, walking back into my bedroom.
Next, I venture into my closet, carefully selecting my outfit for that day. I finally decide on a basic pair of ripped skinny jeans and a simple white v-neck top. My hair is carefree. The same as always, straight with a couple natural waves. That seems to be the only aspect of getting ready I don't overthink.
On my way out I grab my purse and lock my apartment door. When I make it to the elevator, it's already full. Waiting for another one could take ages so I make my way to the stairs. I really hate taking the stairs but you can't blame me, I live on the 52 floor. The stairwell is vacant as usual, my heels echo as they slam on to the cement.
The floor numbers sped by so quickly. 51, 50, 49, 48, 47 46...
It was almost like my legs had gone into autopilot and I was just along for the ride. I felt unstoppable but then,...I was stopped.
Somewhere around the 30th floor I wasn't paying attention and slammed right into a man that was traveling upward. He fell backwards, his back smashing on to the ground. I of course fell right on top of him. I can imagine I knocked the wind right out of him, considering the way he looked up at me. His eyes are beautiful though, a crystal blue color that glistened ever so slighty. He had a strong jawline and his nose was perfect. He looked up at me again.
"Ahh." He reached for his shoulder, wincing once his hand came across it.
"Ohh my gosh, I'm so sorry." I get up off of him, and take my heels off, kneeling on the ground to help him.
He sits up, still holding his shoulder. "It's alright, I wasn't paying attention either." He stands up and looks around the ground for something.
I see what looks like a phone, hanging off the edge of the stairs. Immediatly, I get up and retrieve it.
"Is this yours?" I ask holding the phone in my hand.
He snaches it from my hands. "Thank you."
I nod, glacing back to his shoulder. "That looks pretty bad." I say pulling up his sleeve to reveal a bloody gash.
He looks back to his shoulder, I can tell he's in alot of pain. "Ohh this is an old injury. It must have opened up again."
I grit my teeth at the sight of the deep red blood coming from his wound. This was exactly the reason why I dropped out of nursing school.
"I can help you if you want. I was studying to be a nurse a couple months ago." I continued.
He shakes his head. "I'm sure you have better places to be."
I scoff, "If you consider going to court for a parking ticket better, then yes."
He chuckles, putting his hand out to shake. "I'm Gavin."
I smile , placing my hand in his. "Bethany." Looking back to his shoulder, I can see it getting worse.
"Follow me." I pull him up the stairwell behind me until we reach 52. "Here we are."
Walking back to my apartment was awkward, he just kept his eyed locked on me as I pulled him along. I unlocked the thick door and pushed it open, ushering him inside.
"Nice place." He observed, walking into the living room.
"Thank you." I say, as he sits down on the couch. "Wait right there, I'll go get my kit."
I walk in the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing the box labeled first aid.
"Found it!" I proclaim, setting the box down on the coffee table. "Would you mind taking off your shirt?" I ask sheepishly.
He smirks, taking of his shirt. "Not at all."
I pause for a moment, marveling at his body. His abs are perfectly formed and his muscular arms are toned and smooth. Snapping out of my gaze, I begin cleaning his cut. His skin feels so warm against mine and it sends tingles throughout my body.
His eyes become watery when I finish by stitching it up. "Sorry again." I apologize, looking down.
He picks my chin up and looks in my eyes. "Don't worry about it Bethany."
I smile and get up, afraid that I'm blushing. "Can I get you a drink?" I ask from the kitchen.
