When I woke again, I was still drenched…or…I was sweating. My hair was mostly dry, and I was wrapped in a thick blanket next to a roaring fire. Upon further inspection, I discovered that I was in a living room, and that someone had place me on a couch and slid it close to the fire to warm me up. The room itself was very inviting. There was soft, light blue carpet on the floors, and the furniture was a blue-green that complimented it very well. The furniture was in an obvious state of disrepair, but it was very comfortable and had more of a warm, well-used feeling to it. On one of the walls was a large wooden entertainment center with cherry-colored wood. A flat screen tv sat on top of the entertainment center, high enough that one almost had to lay down to see it very well. There was also a dvd player, a cable box, and a stereo system underneath the tv. On the wall opposite of me were several shelves that held tons of books, movies, and cd’s. Far too many to count, I thought to myself. The final wall didn’t really exist. It looked as though it had been knocked out to give a better view of the hall and staircase beyond. Much of the empty wall around the fireplace had been filled with pictures—paintings rather, and very good ones at that. There were paintings of lovers kissing in the rain, people sitting on benches or in hallways looking lost and lonely, some standing on dark beaches looking longingly out to sea, and so many more.

“You’re awake.” I gasped and jumped as I looked to see the man from before, leaning comfortably against a corner or the entrance. His waist-length wavy black hair had been tied back in a ponytail, and the ends of it curled up just slightly. His bangs hid one half of his face and hung down about to his shoulder. His eyes, I discovered, were not black, but a dark green color, much like the color of pine trees. As he stood before me now, I noticed that he was shirtless, though a towel hung partially over his shoulder as he attempted to dry a section of his hair. “Are you comfortable?”

“Um…y-yeah…I guess…” I muttered, reaching up to scratch my shoulder nervously and noticing that, despite how warm I was, my clothes were still really damp, though with as many stories as I’d heard from my parents, I was surprised to still be wearing my clothes at all.

“Do you like my work?” he asked, nodding towards the paintings I’d been admiring as he made his way towards me slowly, though seemingly more comfortably than before, while still working the towel in his hair.

“You did those?” I asked in amazement as I shifted glances from him to the paintings and back again.

“Yes…” he chuckled. “When you’ve seen as much as I have, you begin to need an outlet for everything…” I pushed myself up into a sitting position and gasped in pain as my shoulder twinged, and I put my hand up to it lightly, wondering what was wrong with it. “You’re alright.”

“What?” I asked, unsure of just what exactly he thought he was referring to.

“You’re shoulder. You just twisted it. It’ll hurt for awhile, but you should feel better in a couple of days.” He finally came to a stop near the end of the couch that my feet were at and dropped the towel, letting it rest comfortably on his shoulder as he placed his hands on his hips.

“And how would you know that?” I asked suspiciously.

“I’ve seen enough breaks and sprains to know what’s what. If you had broken it, your shoulder would be out of place, and if you had sprained it, you wouldn’t be able to move it at all. Had you sprained or broken it, you wouldn’t be able to put any weight on it…” he said, nodding towards my arm which I was slightly leaning back on. I stared at him for a moment, then shook my head.

“Okay…” I said, and an awkward moment of silence passed between us. Well, it was awkward for me at least. I turned to watch the fire, and I could almost feel him watching me. It seemed like eternity before he spoke again.

“So what drives a person to attempt suicide in the middle of the night?” I snapped my head around, instantly changing my expression to an angry glare. “Touchy subject I see. Okay, let’s try an easier one,” he said, rounding the end of the couch and sitting in the empty space near my feet. “What’s your name?” I drew my feet closer to me. After getting over the anger of our first meeting and the initial shock of this one, I began to notice how hot he looked.

“M-Melissa,” I said shyly. “Some people call me Mel.”

“I’m Damon,” he said, holding out his hand and smiling. I felt my insides dissolve instantly and I stared at him dumbly for a moment.

He’s so--No! Stop it Mel! You don’t need this right now! I gave a small smile and shook his hand, then quickly withdrew it, and I could feel the redness begin to creep up into my face as I looked away.

“Well…I suppose we should get you back home before it gets any later.” I looked back up at him, eyes wide with fear. I couldn’t go home. Not after what I’d done.

“No! Please! Don’t make me go back!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, shrugging and shaking his head. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes you do! Just don’t tell anyone I’m here!” I tossed the blanket off and repositioned myself so I was sitting on my knees.

“That’s called kidnapping, Mel,” he said, giving me a reprimanding look.

“Not if you don’t get caught,” I said, grinning and pointing at him. He chuckled and shook his head.

“As much as I’d like to help, I’d rather not take that chance.” I sighed as my face fell, and I glanced to the side.

“I’m only gonna run away again,” I muttered.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he said with a shrug. “My job is just to make sure you get home okay.” I sighed, frustrated.

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with so I can figure out how to get out of there again.”