My Place- Randall Carpio Love Story

The Knights of Saint Christopher

*

Remi woke to a hard surface lying underneath her. The cold, unforgiving ground pressed into her exhausted muscles and brittle bones. Her cheek smashed against the cold wood and tried to glue her to it from the pool of drool under her.

Her nails dragged along the wood as she tried to pull her arms underneath her to help her sit up.

What the hell happened?

The last she remembered was being stuck in a small room and having something attack her.

Why do I keep losing my memory?

Her nails dragged along the wood to try a horrible screech that alerted Randall who sat in a chair beside her with a medical terminology textbook in his hand. He lowered it to look down at her, then shot up from his seat at the sight of her moving. "Hey- you're awake-" he turned to grab the railing of the stairs. "Guys! She's awake!"

His loud voice rang in her ears and deepened the throb in her head. "Stop-" She threw her hand out toward him in an effort to shut him up. Her hand hit something hard before she grabbed his ankle and shook it.

He bent down to a crouch beside her and grabbed her wrist to pry her hand from his ankle. "I'm not an alarm clock. You can't hit snooze." He lifted her hand to his chest to run his thumb over each of her knuckles. "How do you feel?"

She peeled her eyes open and smacked her lips together. Her tongue scratched the roof of her mouth and gave the unGodly sensation of sandpaper. Stale dirt flitted across her tongue and the wiry texture of fur stuck between a few of her teeth. "Ugh-" she gagged and squeezed her eyes. "Like I fell down a mountain and landed in a mud pile." She blinked before looking back to Randall who continued to hold her hand to his chest. He reached out with his other hand to trace up her arm, drawing goosebumps under his touch until he reached her shoulder where his warm fingers grazed her bare skin.

She frowned and peered over her shoulder to see his hand on the middle of her bare back. Below it was nothing but her naked back down to the top of her but where a decent-sized robe laid over her rear end. "What the fuck?!" She screamed as she ripped her arm from Randall's grasp and turned away from him as she sat up. She covered her breasts with one arm as she tried to finagle the robe over her shoulders.

Randall sprang up and took two giant steps away from her to give her some space. "I didn't do it- I did not take your clothes off-" He shouted over her own girlish scream. "You were already naked, I swear! Look-" He grabbed something from the beer pong table and threw it down by her legs.

She crossed the robe over her front as she looked down at the ripped shirt to see familiar white bold lettering across it. "No..." She whimpered as she picked up what was left of her shirt. "I liked that shirt."

"I'm- I'm sorry. Maybe we can try to find another one," he offered.

She ignored him as she stood with her back to him as she tied the robe closed at the small of her waist. Randall's eyes burned into her back butcher pretended not to notice. With the robe tied and most of her body covered, she turned and stood barefoot in his foyer. Even with the robe, his cheeks tinged pink as his deep brown eyes scanned slowly down the length of her frame.

She frowned at his examination and looked herself over. Her legs held more grass stains than she remembered and her feet were covered in dried mud that left brown crusted clumps between her toes. She lifted her hands to see her palms painted pink that darkened to a steely red at each fingertip. Her stomach dropped at the sight of clumps of white short hairs that looked eerily similar to fur. "Is that-"