Not Only I am Falling

With an about-face, she turned and fell resolutely into the puddle. Actually, she wasn’t even quite sure it qualified as a puddle. It was more like someone had placed a small lake in the middle of the street with no thought as to the consequence of doing so. And had thus condemned London to its watery depths. Bare arms flailing in vain, she fell forward into the foot of ocean that covered what was once a road. The dirty liquid rose up to greet her in all its icy glory, grinning as it soaked her clothes.

“Just perfect.” She groaned, slapping the water furiously.

Her jeans were soaked and muddy to such a degree, that she began to question whether they would ever be blue again. What had once been a rather nice black knit tank top clung to her body, showing off a bit more than she had bargained for.

“Spectacular Dive!” came a Scottish voice from nowhere in particular. “Just brilliant!”

London closed her eyes, fervently praying that God would take pity on her and smite her where she lay. She opened her eyes. No such luck.

“You are the absolute last person I want to see right now.” She spat in the voice’s direction.

“Ouch! Give meh a second to pull out the dagger!”

The voice stepped into view and knelt down beside her. She avoided his gaze as best she could, knowing that if she didn’t, he’d pull her right back in.

“What are you, a stalker now?”

“Can yeh retract yeh claws for just a minute?” he replied, with an edge of irritation.

She blushed slightly, noting that he was trying to be civilized. And she was doing everything in her power to bring him down.

“Your jeans are getting wet.” She said offhandedly, noticing that he was still kneeling before her.

Kyle feigned a gasp. “My stars! Did yeh just actually sound like yeh cared!”

“Oh shut up. This isn’t exactly my idea of a wonderful evening.” She retorted, noting the streaks of sunshine that filtered in through the trees on the block.

He laughed, eyes smiling mischievously at her. “Personally, I’m still tryin' to figure out how yeh got down there.”

“I fell.”

“Who fells in puddles?”

“Who puts a puddle where someone is going to walk?”

“Who walks in the middle of the street?”

London’s brown eyes narrowed, giving him a look that would make a lesser man internally combust from sheer fright.

He ignored her; having received that look so many times it had lost its potency. After brushing the loose gravel from the knees of his jeans, he extended his hand down to London.

She looked up at him, the dirty water still streaming down red hair that fell down her shoulders in stringy clumps.

“I could drag you down, you know.”

“I know.”

London grabbed the outstretched hand as he pulled her up; maybe too hard. She flew from the puddle flinging water everywhere, and stopped an inch from his face. With a swiftness she had taught him long ago, Kyle slid his arms around her, pulling her even closer.

Her breath caught as her body began to remember what it had felt like to be held in those strong arms so long ago.

Without warning, he brought his lips to hers for a gentle kiss. He drew away, surprised by his own boldness and afraid of her reaction. Relief came when after several seconds she had failed to slap him.

“That’s not fair…” she finally whispered, hating him for making her fall in love again.

He smiled softly. “I believe, meh dear, that it was yeh who said life’s not fair.”

Note: Kyle's dialogue isn't mispelled; It's my pathetic attempt at writing a Scottish accent.