Blood and Silver: First Bite

Flutters

A bright light woke Abigail. She squinted as her eyes adjust to the light, and realised that it was the sunlight coming through a window. She realised she was in a large, king sized bed with masculine checked bedding. Her surroundings all looked so unfamiliar, but she felt strangely at ease.

She put her hands on the bedding, and realised that she was still wearing her clothes which were covered in dirt, and the bed was full of dirt and leaves. She instantly felt guilty, but also relieved that a stranger hadn’t seen her naked.

She looked around and realised she must be in a log cabin. She stood up and looked out the window, and saw trees for miles around. She noticed the sound of running water coming from behind the door to the left of the bed, and heard the creak of a tap being turned off, and the water stopped. She sat, waiting on the edge of the bed for the mysterious owner of the house to emerge.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Abigail immediately felt the flutters she’d so desperately hoped to feel. A man, who must’ve been about 20, stepped out wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist.

He was about 6 foot 5, had a ripped, tanned body, black hair, and hazel eyes that seemed to have flecks of gold which reflected the sunlight. He had some well groomed stubble on his face, and was quite possibly the most handsome man Abigail had ever laid eyes on.

‘Oh good morning, sleeping beauty!’ He said, rubbing is hair with another towel while the leftover moisture dropped down his body. He must’ve had a hot shower, Abigail thought, as the steam was rising from his body which only added to her flutters.

‘It’s good to see you awake, you must’ve quite a nasty knock to the head.’

Abigail didn’t remember hitting her head, although her temples were throbbing this morning.

‘Where am I?’ She asked.

‘You’re in my cabin, I found you out in the woods alone last night, and brought you back here to make sure nothing happened to you. It’s not safe to be out there alone you know.’ He said.

She reached for her shoulder, and there was a large piece of gauze held on with medical tape.

‘Don’t worry, my dad was a doctor and he taught me everything I need to know about field first aid. You’re in good hands.’ He said. ‘I’m Jackson, by the way. You can call me Jack.’ He reached out his hand to shake hers.

‘Oh I’m Abbie, I mean Abigail’ she stuttered ‘but you can call me Abbie, or Abs, or really whatever you want…’ she stopped herself. This man made her so nervous that she was rambling? She shook his hand and started looking around, searching for a way to change the subject.

Jack chuckled. ‘Well listen Abbie, I kinda need to get dressed and if you want to see more of me, you’ll at least have to buy me dinner first.’

Abigail felt her cheeks heat up.

‘How about you hop in the shower while I dress, and I’ll leave some fresh clothes out for you? I won’t have anything as nice as what you’re wearing now, but it will be clean.’

Abigail nodded her head, and was glad that he gave her direction instead of focussing on her obvious embarrassment.

She stood up and instantly stumbled to the floor. Jack leaned forward and effortlessly caught her. She’d completely forgotten that she twisted her ankle. She looked down at her blue and bruised ankle, Jack following her eyes.

‘Oh I missed that, ouch!’ He grabbed a small, plastic stool from the corner of the room and took it into the bathroom.

‘You get cleaned up, you can sit and shower, and I’ll bandage that up and make you as good as new when your feet aren’t all muddy.’ Abigail thanked him, and before she could say anything else, he added ‘don’t worry about the bed, it wouldn’t be the first or last time it’s been full of dirt. That’s why washing machines were invented.’ He added a wink to the end of his sentence which made her melt.

Jack headed for the kitchen, and Abigail hobbled to the bathroom, using a chest of drawers and the wall to support herself as she went.

She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Everything was still steamed up from Jack’s shower. She wiped her hand across the mirror and gasped in horror. Her makeup was smeared across her face, her hair was in knots, and there was a leafy twig sticking out of one of the tangles. She couldn’t believe that Jack had seen her in this state! She picked out the twig and threw it out of the window next to the toilet.

She started to run the water and stepped out of her clothes. When she got under the stream of water and sat down on the stool Jack had put down for her, it felt like the best shower she had ever had. The water pressure was perfect, the water was hot, and her aching muscles were instantly soothed.

She spotted a single, solitary bottle in the corner of the shower. ‘Hair, body and face soap’ it read. She rolled her eyes, her saviour unfortunately did not stock any beauty products or floral scented soaps.

‘Oh well, it’s better than nothing!’ She said to herself, and watched as the dirty, soapy water went down the drain.

When she got out, she spotted a comb next to the basin. It seemed rude to use a stranger’s comb, but she had tangles, and she’s already filled his bed with dirt, so she didn’t really have a choice.

She felt the medical tape on her shoulder coming loose, so removed the gauze, telling herself she could ask Jack to freshly dress her wound after she got dressed. She turned her shoulder TK the mirror, and although there were some small marks, they didn’t equal the amount of pain she’d felt last night, or the size of the dressing Jack had put on her.

She remembered reading somewhere the alcohol thins the blood, so reasoned that he must’ve put on a big dressing as it was bleeding a lot.

She wrapped herself up and put a towel around her hair, and cautiously opened the door to the bedroom, ensuring that Jack was not around. The bed was already stripped, and there was a neatly folded pile of clothes on the corner of the mattress. She hopped over and threw herself onto the bed.

She saw a small, handwritten note between the layers. ‘Don’t worry’ it said ‘I’ve never worn these underpants before, they are too small. They should fit you.’

Abigail laughed. They were a perfect fit, and boxer style so there wasn’t a horrible gathering of fabric in the front. He’d put out a pair of jeans for her, but they were far too big. The checked shirt he laid out, however, made a perfect shirt dress, and covered her down to her mid thigh. She put her bra back on, as it hadn’t gotten dirty in her fall, and put the shirt on. He’d put a belt down as well, hoping it would help the jeans to fit, so she wrapped it around her waist and fashioned the shirt to look like it was made to be a dress.

She opened the bedroom door to a living room and saw Jack in the kitchen.

‘I hope you like pancakes!’ He said, and handed her a plate.

‘Mmm my favourite!’ She said, cutting into one and loading up her fork.

Jack looked at her the way she’d never been looked at by a guy before. The flutters were back.