The Inevitable |

chapter 5

The cold, wintry wind tore at my face as I linked arms with Ray, glad to have someone providing me heat. Even if it was minimal.

Exiting the hospital, I observed his face, which had finally been cleaned up of blood by a nurse. He was actually really handsome with fair skin that had not even a single crease or wrinkle; jet black eyes that were warm and mysterious at the same time; a chiselled jawline that had clearly been structured by God Himself and gorgeous, black hair that stood in a quiff, emphasising his jawline even more. His face was free of any hairs and instead of making him look younger, he actually looked more mature.

"Done staring?" he suddenly said, bringing me back into reality.

"Well, no not yet," I laughed, looking down with discreet embarrassment.

"Shall I walk you home?" he politely offered, and enthusiastically I nodded.

Until I realised... I had no home to go to. Unless you could consider going back to the hellhole of a house I used to rent, which was a non existent offer.

Minutes later, we had chattered about things in general, from face washes to war. Don't ask me how we even got from such a trivial matter of face wash to something as colossal as war. The comfortable, easy conversation around us made me smile as I didn't even have to think about what to say with him as opposed to a conversation with Rick.

"So, where do you live?" he asked, as we stopped, waiting for the traffic lights to turn red so we could cross.

"Uh..." I didn't know how to explain, "about that..."

--

Wrapped up in a warm blanket, I watched tv on a large, leather sofa that literally devoured me as I sank deeply into it. I didn't even know what I was watching, but I flicked through channels until I found something remotely interesting. Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

"Want anything to drink?" Ray called from his cosy kitchen which consisted of neutral shades: oak, beige, brown, wood...

Standing up, I removed the blanket from around me and entered his kitchen, where I found him looking all manly with an apron on, and a pan in one hand, and a kettle in the other. I was surprised because even I never cooked with such enthusiasm.

"I'll make it myself." I took the kettle and followed his directions as I scoured the kitchen, searching for ingredients to create my special Nutella hot chocolate.

After I informed him that I had nowhere to stay, it began to heavily rain so I had no option but to seek temporary shelter in his house. I was supposed to be searching for a place to rent right now but I was way too tired and stressed out to even think about it. Ray was so kind about it and he instantly offered his house but I declined because I couldn't stay in his house, especially not as a permanent fixture. So, he, like the practical, good-natured man he is, said that I would go to his house and relax and get dried from the torrents of rain that left me and him a dripping, soggy mess, eat a good meal, maybe nap and then search on places to stay. However, he had to compromise because I kept refusing so in the end, he said I could use his laptop to search for accommodations. Then, we grabbed the most current newspapers on the way so I could look for advertisements.

Content, I sighed as I looked down at the two perfect mugs of steaming hot chocolate that were topped with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles and two cheeky marshmallows. The aroma of what Ray was making overpowered my senses and I was anticipating the taste.

Minutes later, I found myself sat down on an oak (who would've guessed) dining table with a plate of a large helping of lasagne, a glass of red wine, my hot chocolate and a plate of chocolate-coated waffles and pancakes complete with syrup-covered strawberries and banana, a thick clump of Nutella chocolate, some chocolate fondue and chocolate syrup strung across the whole dish. My mouth watered just by looking at the sight.