Chapter Three: Peanut Butter and Honey Sandwiches

I threw a sheet over the blankets and pillows of my bed so I could let the man lay on it without getting them dirty. When I walked out my room the man had slid down the wall I had placed him against and was now on the floor letting his eyelids drop more and more with each blink. With his help I got him to my bed and tried to place him as comfortable as I could get him. When I got him positioned right he let out a groan that put extra speed in my step as I rushed to get things to help clean his wounds.

When I got back to the room I went straight to work on cleaning him up. I cleaned the cut on his forehead first. When I poured hydrogen peroxide on it he started to whimper so I spoke words of comfort in his ear it must have worked because as I cleaned the wounds on his arms and through the rips in his jeans he only winced now and again. I put Band-Aids on all the wounds and kissed them so they would heal better, I made sure his eyes were closed in slumber before the kisses of coarse.

When I was done I cleaned my room and the bathroom up just in case he woke up, I didn’t want him to think me a pig. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading a book and listing to my music quietly. When I heard a cough I walked from my spot on the living room couch into my room and saw the man awake. His eyes caught mine and pleaded with me. “Do you need something?” I asked

“Water.” He breathed out. I quickly went into the kitchen and got a water bottle. When I got back the man had fallen back asleep so I sat next to him on the bed hoping he would wake up for a quick sip. The man was very handsome. Well, no not man he couldn’t have been but a year older than me if not the same age. He had deep circles around his eyes and I was glad that he could rest here, for it looked like that he had not slept in years where he had been before. There was a small cut on his eyelid that I must have missed. I went into the bathroom and soaked a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and preceded to clean the missed wound. After making sure he was still in his dream world I kissed that cut too. I always did that, even when my friends would get a bruise. They would instinctively hold out the bruised body part for me to kiss. I guess it was my maternal instincts kicking in early. I let my finger graze the eyelid before it trailed down to his nose. It was the perfect size for his oval face. I brushed a finger over his lips they were chapped but a delicious color of pink. My finger kept traveling to his square chin which held a bit of stubble that made me take my finger back when I ran across it. His hair was done in that ‘I’m a sexy emo don’t you want me’ kind of way. And boy did I want him. His chest was rising and falling and you could tell he didn’t have much muscle on him but it would still look good without a shirt.

My eyes traveled lower and lower and I thanked god for letting me hit this sexy beast and not some legless hobo. And that’s when the guilt kicked in again. How dare I be glad at almost killing someone. And why are is the legless hobo worse than this guy?? Why was he in the middle of a dangerous turn right after the storm, it didn’t make sense. And finaly why wouldn’t he want me to call the cops. I sighed and continued my journey of his body. His legs looked like they went on for miles. I slipped his shoes off for him, something I had neglected to do to make him more comfortable. My fingers slowly traced their way up his legs. I was so absorbed in his perfect body that I didn’t realize my patient was awake. “enjoying yourself?” he asked in a frightenlingy raspy voice afterwards he took a deep breath. I could feel my checks blaze red and I quickly reached for the water bottle. In the process I accidentally sent it flying across the room. If it were possible my cheecks grew even redder while I quickly picked it up and showed it to him.

“I was getting you some water,” I held it up higher and pointed at it and shook it a little “See.” I hope he didn’t think I was going to turn into a rapist or something. He tried to sit up and when he couldn’t I helped him and had the blush come back up to my face. I tipped the bottle to his lips and he quickly downed it in five gulps. I threw the bottle in the recycling bin I had started and got a couple more bottles of water.

“My name is Alex.” His voice sounded better but still tired so I handed him another bottle and sat down on the floor to drink one myself.

“cool.” I was still too embarrassed to talk, so I distracted myself by looking at what time it was. I groaned in my head because my mother was usually home making my life miserable by this time. Sure enough there was that old blue car coming down the drive way. I closed the curtains and looked at Alex. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Ooh yeah. I’m starving what do you have?”

“umm normal stuff.” I shrugged at how I was supposed to answer that.

“Can you make me a peanut butter and honey sandwich?”

“one or two?” a small smile came when he said that he wanted my favorite sandwich.

“two please.” And with that I walked out of my room to make us a quick dinner.