Fighting For Her Ch 02

Once we got inside, I never realized how cold I was until my body shook uncontrollably. I noticed she was shivering, too, by the sound of her shuddering breaths. As I turned on the lights in the main entrance, I finally got a good look at her: she looked similar to actress Kristen Bell, but her hair was a bit darker and her blue eyes lighter. She was a bit shorter than me, maybe at about two to three inches shorter.

From my observations, she's wearing some kind of school uniform. She wore a black jacket, and some kind of white shirt inside. To my horror, she was wearing a skirt; not too long, but not too short. How in the world does she stay warm, I thought, if she wears skirts? Oh, the wonders of the world. But I got to say, she has one killer legs.

She looked around the building, a hint of comfort showered her eyes.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked suddenly while she taking off her bag.

My body shook. "Yea," I said, shuddering, " a little bit."

"Your clothes," she chuckled," aren't exactly for winter."

I was going to respond, " Yours aren't exactly for winter either," but I decided not to. The look on her eyes made me speechless.

Snap out of it, I thought to myself.

"Um," I said, " I have my phone upstairs and a little bit of food and pop. If you want to, I can run over to a nearby store and get some more food."

She quickly grabbed my right hand, her hands cold as ice. I shuddered at the contact.

"No," she said, almost too low for anyone to hear, " if you don't mind, can you stay by my side until I go home?"

The gentleness in her voice melted my heart; I wasn't really used to gentle affection. I cleared my throat and replied," No, I don't mind at all."

She gleamed and showed me her wide smile; I swear my heart just skipped a beat.

"The stairs are right over there," I stuttered, pointing to the far back, "I need to lock up completely and check if everything down here is good."

She bit her lower lip. "Is it okay if I just stay by you? I don't want to go upstairs without you."

I raised my right eyebrow, amusement and happiness fluttered throughout my body. She looks really cute, I thought, those lips, eyes, breasts...she's attractive...

Whoa, I thought, what are you thinking? For crying out loud, she's a girl and if you haven't noticed already you are one, too. I scratched my head in frustration.

"By the way, my name's Amy," she said, interrupting my thoughts," what's yours?"

"Pamela and I don't mind you staying by me."

"Hmm," she said, smiling," Pamela. Fitting name for my knight in shining armor."

Hiding my blushing face, I walked slowly to the door and began locking it. I locked all the windows and turned off the lights. Since I already have a mental map of the place, I can usually go upstairs without any lights on. I was about to reach my hand to Amy to guide her when I felt a gentle tug on my right arm. She hugged it, feeling her breasts rubbing up my arm.

"We should probably head upstairs," I said nervously, " and call the cops of what happened tonight. Sounds good?"

Several seconds went by before she replied yes. Slowly, I guided her upstairs, opening the door that leads to the small apartment. Fortunately, the light was on in the bare living room; to my dissapointment, she let go of my arm when she saw the light. She went to the living room and sat down on the couch, looking through "Antigone."

Breaking my eyes off her, I rushed to the kitchen and found my cell. Before I could dial 9-1-1, she called my name from the living room.

"What's up?" I asked, phone still on my hand. She was sitting on the couch, showing a worried expression on her face.

"Can you not call the police?"

"And why not?"

"Because..."

I crossed my arms, waiting for an explanation. "Well?"

"I'm a runaway."

"What?"

Her head dropped, her lips quivering. God, I wanted to taste those lips, but I contained myself.

"Do you have a minute?"

For the next couple of minutes, she slowly explained and opened up to me. She explained the hatred she felt towards her family; it came to the point that running away was the only option. I listened intensely, sitting Indian-style and facing her: she came from a very rich family (apparently, her father owns a huge industry.) Her family and herself weren't emotionally or physically attached to one another. Everyday was business day for them, not a single kiss goodbye or hello, no dinner meals with the family, or anything at all. Just business.

She described her father. Boy, he sounded like a hard, cold man from the way she described him: no affection, moral support, nothing.

One day, she couldn't take it anymore. She was tired from her family that wasn't family-like. She was tired of going to a private school, doing hard classes just to please her family, even if a little bit. She was tired of having only a little bit of social life since she was busy most of the time with her school work.

I stood in front of her, unmoving. Should I call or not?

Sighing, I flipped my cell shut. "I swear, if I get into more deep troub-"

"You won't," she instantly said," I promise."

A thought occurred to me. Does she have a place she can stay? I couldn't possibly leave her alone on the streets at this time of night. Hell, she'll be slaughtered when she takes twenty steps away from the entrance door. I scratched my head in frustration.

"Do you have a place to stay for tonight?" I asked nervously.

She shrugged. "Not really, to be honest. I never thought running away was so hard. I had a bag full of clothes and money with me, but the money got stolen from the guys you saved me from."

I leaned against to the nearest wall.

"Why don't you stay here?" I asked while looking down at my feet." Until you find a place 'till then, I mean. My stepdad won't be here until next Sunday. I- I mean i-if you don't have anywhere to go."

I looked at her. She had a relaxed, peaceful expression. Her eyes pierced into mine. I never felt so... vulnerable.

"I'd like that," she softly said, " that's very generous of you."

"Well, um," I said," there's only two bedroom here, but Mike's, my stepdad, is off limits. He hates it when someone goes in his room. I'll sleep out here and you can sleep in my room."

She bit her lower lip and said," Okay. That sounds good. Oh my god, are you okay?"

I realized I was grabbing my throbbing left arm. Instinctly, I sat down on the couch, side opposite from her.

"Uh, yea, " I lied, wincing as I tried to massage the damn arm," I'm good."

"Oh, please."

She chuckled, shook her head, and went to the kitchen. She came back with a bag full of ice.

Gracefully, she sat down Indian style in front of me, facing face-to-face. Our knees were touching. I gulped nervously.

Carefully, she placed the bag on my arm. I flinched from the cold contact. I held the bag, our hands made contact.

"Does this happen that often?" she asked almost in a whisper.

"Well, yea," I replied." My shoulder has been dislocated millions of times and-"

"No," she said, chuckling a bit." You saving random strangers."

I smiled at her, but responded no answer.

"It has been a long night," I said, "and I know you're tired. You can sleep, I can heal myself."

We both smiled.

"So let me get this straight, " she said as she stands up, "You saved a girl whom you never even met before, then you bring her to your apartment, and offer her to stay until she finds a place?"

"Pretty much," I said, looking at her.

She showed her most perfect smile, and shook her head.

"You're something else."

After seconds of looking at each other, I slowly stood up. I ditched the ice bag, which I regret very much since my arm still hurts like hell. I gave her the tour of my small apartment, which lasted for 3-5 minutes. I made my bed on the couch, showed her my room and gave her some of my clothes to change in the room. After she changed, she looked marvelous. She had a red tank top on with blue sweat pants. Her hair was a bit messy, but she looked sexy as hell.

After gawking at her while sitting on the couch, she looked at my way and approached me. Blushing, I pretended to stare at something else. I felt her standing by the couch and looked up.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Her eyes were watering, voice quivering, " For everything. Good night."

Slowly, she leaned into me and I surrendered into her loving hug. Her soft, golden skin was intoxicating. Her hair, lips, eyes, everything about her was intoxicating. She would be the kind of drug I would gladly be addicted to.

And I might as well be.

Our hug ended, and she smiled at me. Afterwards, she walked towards my room, and closed the door behind her.

And there I was, laying on the couch, eyes wide open. I have never felt excited for morning to come.