ESPOIR

#1

B E V E R L Y

Tired. She was tired. Tired out of her mind. Of her soul. Tired of existing.

Her body was aching. Her eyes were closing every now and then. She wanted to escape. She wanted to get out of that prison that held her in. She wanted to disappear where he couldn't find her.

Thoughts not helping her eyes to close, she got out of bed and rushed out in the hopes of getting fresh air.

Her neighborhood is awfully quiet at dawn. Shops and restaurants stay closed until 9AM. Except for one, of course. The restaurant where she works at is open 24/7.

She managed to take the another route, walking where her feet took her. She observed her surroundings as she went.

The large glowing sphere rose slowly into the dull morning sky, casting sunbeams in every direction while it illuminated the small town. She stared as the colors made by the rising sun changed, growing more vivid with the passing time.

Time.

What if he walks into her room and finds her bed empty?

Her eyes widened at the thought and her feet went cold. All she could think about was the continuous pain she would face.

At this point, she couldn't bother to really bring a stop to it anyway.

She turned away and headed home. Home. Felt bitter upon her tongue.

It was a word that died the moment her mother left.

A mother who was meant everything to Beverly. A mother that cared for her no less than a treasure. A mother who taught her everything she knows today.

A mother who faded away and was to never come back.

Her deep thoughts vanished when an unusual sight came into her view. A man on the doorstep of her house. What was he doing? She thought.

In a closer view, she figures out he was very bloody. Every inch of his body was covered in bright red. He was out cold, but not dead.

She checked his pulse to see that in fact, he was alive, however unconscious. She looked up to be caught in a confusing sight. The hood of his jacket was pulled over his hair, covering his forehead. The rest of his jacket stayed on his back, the arms tied loosely around his neck.

All things aside, he looked godly. Streaks of sunlight toning over his perfect abs.

He was head-to-toe covered in blood and probably seemed uncomfortable sleeping on the doorstep, so she thought of another brilliant idea. She dragged his body to the back of the house where she can lift him up to her window.

Strength? She didn't even realize it when his whole body was lifted into her room. She was half-asleep, not talking into account that this was a complete stranger.

"Espoir"

She heard a soft whisper.

His eyes were shut, the sunlight toning over his perfectly sculpted face.

"Espoir"

What was he even saying? She shrugged and tried to ignore the soft voice whispering into her ear.

"Espoir"

French. She thought. What did Mrs. Darcy teach her in French.

"Espoir." My heart clenched, knowing what he meant was 'hope'.

Just what has he really gone through?

Without another thought, she finally pulled him into her room and hurried to get the first aid to clean up his thousand wounds.

Fast, yet quietly, she grabbed the kit from the cabinet and hurried into her room to help the stranger she just dragged in.

She cleaned up his wounds one by one and took off the hoodie he had wrapped around the head.

Her eyes widened when she had seen his completely white hair. No it wasn't blonde, silver or any of that. Just white.

Pure.

Looking closer, she realizes his eyebrows are also white.

Had he dyed them white? He probably had. She thought.

The sunlight beamed through her windows and she knew that her father would wake up soon enough.

Locking her door and closing her curtains, she tucked him into bed and got into bed herself. She pulled the covers on them.

What she felt later was the feeling of soft hands on her waist.

And may be that was the only peaceful sleep she ever got, even for a few hours.

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What do you think will be his reaction when he wakes up?

What would you do if you see a bloody, naked stranger on your doorstep?

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