Forelesser 11.22.12

Damien entered the office after dropping off the latest shipment to Reynolds. Things were running smoothly. Not that he let himself lower his guard around the Vampire. He would never allow things to get that ‘chummy’. Strictly business, always. Stay sharp to stay alive…so to speak.

He threw his keys onto the desk then turned on the stereo. Metallica’s “…And Justice For All” screamed out of the speakers. Perfect. Just the thing. Like liquid chaos.

As he turned, he bumped the tuner and suddenly Lionel Richie was crooning strains of “Still”. In an instant Siobhan came to mind. He always thought of that part of him as BTC. ‘Before The Change’.

He went and sat on the couch leaving the radio where it was. He rubbed his face with both hands and then ran them through his hair. His short, white hair.

He remembered when they’d first met…officially.

1979: For the last three months he had watched her. Every evening at six o'clock just after dusk like clockwork. There she would be in her jogging outfit and sneakers, copper red hair pulled back into a long ponytail and looking every inch like a goddess. It was obvious she took care of herself.

He had thought about approaching her many times, but she presented a front that screamed ‘back off’. So, for now, he was content to just watch her from behind the bushes off the running path.

This was a first for him. Usually he didn't bother with her type. His norm was fast and loose. It fit into his one night stand lifestyle. And that suited him just fine. He had always avoided getting involved. He had never felt the need to be a couple. It had never even crossed his mind. Until lately.

He followed her covertly from a distance, making sure he kept back just enough. She concentrated on her run and tuned out the world so he wasn’t too worried about her noticing him. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself from anyone else either. His black leather jacket, dark blue jeans and shoulder length brown hair helped him blend into the background. The last thing he needed was to be looked upon as a mugger, though, in truth, he was more of a stalker.

He felt like a schoolboy with his first crush. Why didn't he just go up to her and start talking? He'd never had a problem with that before. Actually conversation was usually as short as possible. On to the finale and then hit the road.

But, this one..this one was different. He knew absolutely nothing about her, but he knew he wanted to learn everything about her.

He watched her continue on down the street. Luckily her routine never changed and he knew where she was headed. He turned right and crossed the street intending to cut her route in half and get in front of her. She would be coming around the block and down the hill and then cross the street into the park. There was something to be said about routine.

He waited behind a large, bushy pine tree just inside the park. She would be crossing the street and running right in front of him any time now. The streetlight at this corner flickered on and off. Mostly off and then it was nice and dark. The half moon shone one and off between clouds.

A taxi drove past, obstructing his view for a moment. Then. Yes. There she was. Coming down the hill. Not long now.

He saw her running, not paying attention, just running. He saw the mugger darting out in front of her from behind a bush. He punched her in the side of the head a few times, knocking her down. He grabbed her purse, but she wouldn’t let go. He kicked her until she did. Just then a car came speeding down the street blasting ‘Funk You Up’ out of the windows. It screeched to a halt just long enough for the mugger to jump in. The car peeled out down the street and around the corner.

Damien ran over to her. She looked like a rag doll that had been tossed aside. He carefully rolled her over and cradled her in his arms. She was bleeding down one side of her face. Her jogging outfit was torn and bloodied.

He brushed strands of hair out of her face. She was barely conscious and at first didn't know he wasn’t the mugger. She stiffened and began to struggle.

“Easy, easy. It’s alright. He’s gone. I’m going to help you” he reassured her. The street light came on just then. She looked up into his eyes, and sensed his concern. Slowly she began to relax.

He looked around for help, but the street was deserted and he couldn't see anyone else in the park. Few people ventured out after dark. He doubted if he called for help that anyone would come out. Urban city dwellers weren’t known for getting involved.

Seeing no other recourse, he gently picked her up and carried her to the nearest phone booth. Laying her down gently, he dialed the operator.

He sat anxiously at the hospital while she was examined. After about two hours, he saw her walking slowly down the hall. He jumped up and went to her, forgetting the anxiety he had had earlier about talking to her, just relieved that she seemed alright.

“How are you?” he asked.

She gave him a weak smile. “I’m alive. Sore though. I want to thank you for helping me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

Damien smiled at her. “Just glad I happened to be there at the right time” he told her. “Can I help you get home?” He noticed wary emotions pass over her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m Damien Rickman.” He held out his hand. She seemed to feel a bit better about him.

“Siobhan Kelly” she said and shook his outstretched hand.

From that moment on they had been inseparable. Damien lived a life he had never thought possible. Siobhan seemed to complete him. Instead of thinking only of himself like he had his whole life, now his first concern was her. She became his life. If only he’d known how short that life would be….and why.