To Love the Wild

Pure As A Cherry Blossom

Gravity hit me like a sack of bricks as pain roared up my leg, dousing it in fire as my body collapsed. 

The world tilted; quaintly tiled roofs were consumed by a collapsing scarlet sky, as greying clouds leapt down to bathe my skin. 

Then it stumbled into stillness, and two warm hands held me, one on my back, the other on my wrist. 

"Ma'am, are you okay?" 

"I — I'm so sorry, I don't what just happened." His eyes were kind upon me, dark cerulean in the embrace of the shadows. 

"Let's get you inside, yeah? Must've had quite the shock." 

"Can you just —" I sucked in a breath, trying to still the tremble in my leg, hoping the delicate scabs hadn't split open. Why did I leave my cane at home? "I think I just need a moment." My back hit the wall of the restaurant with pained gratefulness, my weight shifting to my good leg as the rough, red brick bit past my thin jacket, grating against my skin. Everything felt too loud. Cars tore past us, somehow I could hear the clinking utensils of the family at the nearest table within the restaurant, someone laughed. Footfalls.   

Light spilled against my shoes like glowing, golden paint as the diner door chimed. The blue-eyed man's hand jumped from my wrist where it had rested as soon he saw the man who'd walked out. 

Adonis.

His breath came in haggard bursts, a fist squeezed tightly over his chest —

"Oh my gosh, your nose is bleeding —" 

"Callum, go take care of Roman. She's scared." 

"— are you okay?" I pressed off the wall, hands outstretched. "Do you need a doctor?" A thin trail of blood streamed from his nose, creeping over his upper lip. The rivulet glimmered in the flickering street light.

"Who was it?" 

Adonis had always had a mesmerizingly deep voice, to hear him speak was to hear the roar of thunder. But at that moment, a ribbon of fear uncurled in my stomach for whoever angered him. He did not speak then with the voice of thunder — he spoke with the timbre of its rage.

In his voice, I heard war. 

"D-Donny, I'm okay."

"Who?"

"I didn't see them, the car went by so fast. I think it was, uh, blue or... no, I think it was black." Adonis swiped the blood from his nose as he listened, his eyes never leaving the road that curved around us, his hand moved absently, instinctively. 

"Who called you?" His gaze finally found mine, for just a moment, before returning the rain lashed asphalt. 

"Can you look at me?" My words tumbled harsher than I'd meant. His eyes were apologetic to me. My fingers trailed his cheek, trying to smooth some of the tension from his face. I shouldn't have touched him, a man I barely knew, but it felt right.

"I don't know who he was," I said slowly, trying not to alarm him. "He wasn't a cont — Donny, how do you know somebody called me?" 

"Saw you." Adonis drew in a labored breath before he winced, clutching his chest tighter. "Let's get inside." 

"Adonis, if you're hurt —" 

"I'm not." 

"But —"

"Woman," My brow arched. Perhaps it was the neon sign of the diner or the glowing headlights that poured over us before snapping away, but something of a smile teased his features. An odd relief washed over me. "Just come back inside. We'll sort this out."