◈A D R I A N◈

His words never fail to astound me, always saying things that I will never expect to leave his mouth. He cocked his head to the side, silently studying my beat-up face. Feeling abashed, I cleared my throat and straightened my back looking forward.

"I-I just wasn't in my best condition," I stuttered.

He let out a soft chuckle. "I'm sure you're not," he joked, slowly leaning over me. My eyes widened at the close proximity and turned away from him, my heart racing a mile per second. His arm reached over to the nightstand and took a strip of pills and dropped it on my lap.

He leaned closer, placing an arm over me and whispered to my ears. "Don't be afraid. I told you I don't bite."

My cheeks immediately reddened to the shade of tomatoes as he moved away and got up to his feet.

"You're convinced I'm a pervert, aren't you?" he shook his head. "Rest assured, I'm not into twinks. Take a couple of that pill," he pointed to the strip on my lap. "It helps with the headache," he added.

With that, he opened the door and exited the room, leaving me awkward in his room. I looked down to my lap and hold the strip between my fingers. I need water, I thought to myself as I slid closer to the edge of the bed and gingerly place my injured ankle on the timber floor.

As soon as I applied pressure on it, pain shot through me as if I was struck by lightning. I huffed and puffed, trying to support most of my weight on my good leg. My ankle protested strongly when I tried to take my first step. Feeling helpless, I plopped down on the bed once again.

"Hey," I called softly. No answer.

"Hey, old man!" I called again, louder this time. I heard shuffles before a head popped in. His brows were pulled in a tight knit.

"I'll appreciate it if you stop calling me old man. I'm not that old, kid."

"Then maybe you should stop calling me kid, old man," I challenged.

He narrowed his eyes and stepped into the room. Like a bird with its feathers ruffled, his eyes gleamed intensely. His feet stopped inches before me, his height looming over me, casting long shadows on the bed.

"Logan's the name," he said gruffly, extending his hand for a shake.

"Adrian," I replied as my hand met his halfway and gripped it, hard. His warmth slowly melting into my clammy palm.

He returned the favor, gripping it ten times harder with a Cheshire grin playing on his lips. Guess he likes a challenge. I released his hand and held up that medicine for him to see.

"I can't swallow it dry. And my ankle hurts when I tried to walk," I admitted with a slight pout.

I expected him to walk out of the room and return with a glass of water but who knew, Logan's full of surprises. He bent at his waist, his shoulders pressed against my stomach and wrapped an arm around me. With a grunt, he hauled me up and over his shoulders like a sack of flour with my head flailing against his back.

I gasped and stilled my body as he walked out of the room and heading to where I supposed was the kitchen with my head hanging upside down. Blood started rushing south to my head and I started to feel dizzy. I hit him on his back, telling him to let me down. He halted in front of a stool and slowly let me get back to my feet. I made sure to keep my weight off my right ankle as I palmed the granite countertop to balance myself.

"Sit down," he ordered before turning his back towards me and poured himself a glass of water. I took the chance to ogl- admire his strong back and his profile. The sun was low, bathing him in orange and red hues with shadows to darken his features, adding a hint of sexiness.

I caught myself at that thought. Him? Sexy? I wasn't gay. I mean..sure I never had a girlfriend but that doesn't mean I have gay magazines stashed under my bed. If I was anything, I'll call myself asexual.

"Drink up. With that pill," he interrupted my thoughts, pushing a glass of water and muffins?

"While you're at it, eat this too. You're a walking skeleton with skin. Put on more weight, will ya? Then maybe you will be in your best condition the next time they try to beat you up," he added, never missing a chance to turn my words against me.

I grumbled out my thanks and popped a pill on my tongue before taking a sip to flush it down my throat. The water was cooling as I gulped down the rest of it, salving my parched throat. Then, I creeped my fingers towards the muffins, half expecting him to slam his hand on mine like last time.

He sat opposite of me, acting nonchalant. Feeling a little disappointed, I peeled off the parchment paper and took a huge bite of the muffin, nearly swallowing it whole. Logan reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. I remembered the brand from the first time we met. He tapped at the bottom of the packet and took out one, lighting it up in flames. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked in a lungful and slowly blew out wispy smoke.

"So, you free on weekends?" he asked before taking a second puff.

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

"I'll need you to come over to the workshop. Since it was partly your fault that I got robbed, I can't let you off the hook."

"I guess that's reasonable," I agreed with a small smile, subtly hiding my glee since I have excuses to see him again.

"Good. I hope the third time we meet, you won't bring me anymore trouble," he warned.

My smile faltered when his words slowly sink in. The third time.

He didn't remember me.

✈

Author's note

Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you liked it, please consider clicking on the little star to vote :)

{Song: Four Walls by Chaz Thorogood}