Forget them Wendy.

P r o l o g u e

\ She had no idea, no idea at all. \

She remembered running past the crowd, pushing over bodies, and sprinting straight to the street. She remembered the bright flash of green from the stop light, and the headlights that blinded her eyes. The memories from the night before were still vivid. Her body shook in fear as she relived the images from her dream. She remembered crossing the road. Tripping, and falling down to the ground. Her eyes were still fixated on those blinding headlights. The cars were speeding toward her, and no matter how much she wanted to run away, she couldn't. Her body had grown numb. She was frozen.

"Hey," A soft voice interrupts her thoughts, making her jump back into reality. She looks around wordlessly, searching for the owner of the voice.

"I'm right here" he says. She found him leaning by the wall, he had his hands shoved to his jean pockets, and he was wearing a lazy smile on his face. She gave him a quick once over before deciding she liked his clothes. He was wearing a light blue flannel shirt and black ripped skinny jeans.

Their eyes met, and she hadn't had the slightest clue that she was already staring until he raised his eyebrows at her amusingly and tilted his head to the side. She dropped her head down almost immediately, as if his gaze had burned her, but before she looked away, she could've sworn his smile grew wider. Her face was still warm from embarrassment and she didn't want to look back up just yet.

"Hey," he says again, and waves at her.

She was not sure whether he was expecting an answer from her, or was he simply just saying. And so she just fiddled with her bruised fingers. He was slowly making his way to her.

It was the first time she saw his face clearly. Now, without all the sweat, or her hair covering her face-or even the slight bit of blood in her eyes, she suddenly realized he looked beautiful.

His eyes are burnt umber, she thought— they reminded her of coffee. There were small brown ringlets of hair falling on his eyes from his forehead. His hair slightly bounced as he walked. She pursed her lips and took a peek at him. He was sweeping his hair back with his fingers, and he still has his eyes on her.

"Don't play with it too much, it might bleed again" He warns her, and then she looks up to him confusingly. "Your fingers, I mean" he says while staring at them.

"Oh..." She stopped rubbing on her fingertips and simply locked her eyes on the long thin cuts that trailed on her skin. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled.

It really sucked that she couldn't remember anything.

"How're you feeling?"

"I...I'm okay," She said meekly. She backed up automatically when he sat on the foot of the bed. And he frowned when he noticed her doing so.

Bradley bit on his lip, and tried to think of something good to say. "So,"

"...You" he started ", you really don't remember anything?" he asks her softly with his eyes lowered, and she just nods.

"anything at all?" he asks.

She keeps her silence, proving his speculations to be correct. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely before catching her eyes once again. Something inside him lit up when she looked at him. Maybe it was the way her dark eyes caught the light—or maybe it was just that she looked really small and fragile under the over-sized hospital gown. She just looked so broken and helpless that he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, and hold her in place—To just stay by her side and protect her.

The feeling was surreal. It was definitely the first-the first he'd ever felt this protective of somebody other than his family.

"My name is Bradley, just so you know" he says, but she doesn't say anything in reply after that. No words ever came out of her mouth. No, not even a nod or a mere glance. She was just staring at her fingers.

Bradley took in the harrowing sight of her, from her bruised face, to the small cuts that littered her skin, and to the black and purple patches covering her arms and legs. Her hair was cut asymmetrically and it fell past her shoulders. You could easily tell that someone had attempted to shave all her hair off, because a small part on the backside of her head was a bald spot. Bradley slightly grimaced at the thought. She had been through so much, it was breaking his heart.

"Bradley," He slightly jumped when he heard his name roll out of her tongue. He saw a bitter smile appear on her lips. She still wasn't looking at him though.

"...It's nice to meet you" She says quietly. "I'm..." She starts to say, but then cuts of in the middle of the sentence. "I..."

She sighed before speaking again, "I'm sorry..." She frowns.

"....I wish I could tell you my name" She had said it so quietly, it came out as a soft whisper. Bradley caught it nevertheless and felt more bad for her.

"It's all right," He assures her.

Bradley could never be sure of how it turned out that way, but the next thing that followed was a complete blur. He had formed the words inside his head and it left his mouth before he even could stop himself.

"Your name is Wendy" By then, he had absolutely lost control of himself. "And you," Bradley took a sharp breath before speaking,

"...you're my girlfriend"

"You love me..."

She just sat there and stared at him blankly, and for a while they just looked into each other's eyes. And right there, in that very moment, was the beginning of a make-believe relationship between two hopeless people brought together by fate.