Burying your face in your hands, you slumped down lower on the creaky wooden bench. I've really blown it this time. Mum and Dad actually kicked me out.
Heaving a great sigh, you turned your eyes upward to face the cloudy grey sky. Great. Just my luck; it looks like it'll rain soon, you griped silently, curling your fingers into fists.
Just then, a quiet voice snapped you out of your miserable thoughts.
"Hey, are you okay?" it asked, concern evident in its tone.
You could only nod dumbly as a slender man came towards you.
He had tousled silvery-white hair that swayed gently in the chilling breeze. A pair of hypnotic violet orbs peeked out from under heavy eyelids, causing you to shiver subconsciously.
"I noticed you seemed a bit down. My name is Emil. Emil Steilsson," he stated calmly, reaching out a fair hand.
You shook it, introducing yourself in turn. "I...I'm fine."
The lie rolled off your tongue easily, although you felt strangely guilty for lying to him.
Emil replied, "If you were really fine, why would you be sitting alone on an old wooden bench, ready to cry your eyes out?"
Damn. This guy is good, you thought, chewing on your bottom lip. The gears inside your head were whirling at breakneck speed, trying to come up with a plausible lie.
"Don't lie to me. You can trust me," he coaxed.
For some reason, you found yourself telling the truth this time. "My parents kicked me out..."
Violet spheres widened slightly, surprise flickering in them for a moment. "Why?"
"I made some... bad decisions," you shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze.
Emil only nodded without saying a word, and you stared miserably at the dirt-packed ground.
"You can stay at my place, if you'd like."
You gaped at him in shock. Was this guy serious? "We just met! I mean, seriously... what if I'm some kind of serial killer or something?"
He gave you a sharp glance that could only be identified as the 'oh, please' look. "Are you?"
"Well, no..." you admitted sheepishly.
"Besides, you don't have a place to stay. I happen to have a lot of guest rooms." Emil said matter-of-factly.
"Okay, you've got a point," you gave in.
He spun on his heel and briskly began walking away without even a single glance backwards to see if you were following him.
You rose to your feet, and trailed after, wondering why he was being so nice to you. After all, you two were strangers. Emil led you to a small beige house located on the top of a steep hill. From the outside, it looked neat and tidy, and immediately appealed to you.
He opened the door for you like a gentleman would. With tentative steps, you entered the quaint home. It was spotless, which was a surprise to you, since it appeared as though he lived alone. Hm, this guy is the neat type. Who knew?
The walls were painted a plain white, and furniture was sparse. The pieces that you did see were very simple.
You loved it.
"You can pick out a room," Emil stated, interrupting your observations of the house.
He promptly began heading up the small flight of stairs, and into a hallway with many wooden doors, each one leading to a different bedroom.
"The one on the end is my room, but all the others are available."
The one you chose had an excellent view of the garden, as well as a window seat. There was a tiny twin bed that suited you just fine, as well as a sliding closet. It also happened to be the room right next to Emil's.
"Since you don't have anything to change into, you can just wear some of my old clothes," he told you.
Nodding, you felt extremely grateful for all the help he'd given you. "Thank you so much...for everything."
"Don't worry about it. I'll let you get some rest. You must have had a long day." Emil exited the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Your phone suddenly beeped, signaling an incoming text and making you jump. It had sat, forgotten, in the back pocket of your jeans. Sliding it open, your eyes widened with horror at the message's contents.
Where the fuck are you, little emo bitch?
The phone fell to the ground with a clatter as you buried your face in trembling hands, tears sliding down your face. The day's events were finally catching up to you.
Pulling out your box cutter from your pocket, you slid the blade up, and were just about to rake it across your arm when the door flew open.
Emil stood there, alarm evident in his violet orbs. "What are you doing? I heard something fall and was checking to see if you were okay..."
You lowered your head with shame, unable to meet his eyes.
A pair of cool hands took your small wrist. "Listen..." Emil began.