The Werewolf On My Doorstep

:The Werewolf On My Doorstep:2: Xavier

The Werewolf On My Doorstep

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Chapter Two: Xavier

What color would his eyes be if they were open? Dear Lord, the poor guy has been passed out for 3 hours and I'm sitting here wondering what color his eyes are? What's wrong with me? Well, I guess at least this way my eyes aren't wandering south anymore. Urgh, I'm such a pervert, maybe I should have taken Eva's advice and gotten some when I had the chance. Oh well, too late to worry about that now, what I should be worrying about is what I'm going to tell my father when he comes home and finds a naked man in my bed. And let me tell you it was not easy getting his ass up here, either.

First off, its like this guy is rock solid and weighs just as much. And second, Charlie kept growing at him, trying to bite him whenever she could get close enough without me in the way. For some reason my dog does not like anything with a dick, and where she got that from I have no idea. Besides, its not like he's actually done anything that could have her reacting this way, I've never seen this guy before in my life and I think I would have remembered him if I had.

“What am I gonna do when Dad gets home, girl?” Charlie lifts her head off of the armrest of the chair she's laying in and whines at me, eyes darting, nervously, back to the limp body in my bed. “Charlie he's unconscious, he's harmless.” I hope.

I'd managed to clean most of the cuts on his arms and legs, but the slashes on his back and the bullet hole in his chest look like they need real medical attention. I should just call the hospital and let the EMTs deal with this, but something's telling me not to involve them and its freaking me out. What if this guy dies because I didn't call someone who actually knew what they were doing? I'd never be able to live with the guilt and my dad would just add that up to something else I've failed at.

“Charlie, what am I going to do?” How sad is it that I'm talking to my dog? But she's the only one I can talk to, I don't want to involve one of the girls, what if this guys is in serious trouble? I can't call one of them and have them come over only to find out this guy is a murderer or something. But, damn, I don't know what to do.

He groans in pain, body stretching, wincing at the pain of the movement and the room falls back into silence, the only sound is his ragged breathing. Charlie growls lowly and hops off the chair, pacing closer to the bed, baring her teeth at his unconscious form. He groans again and she tenses, crouching like she's ready to pounce on him as soon as he moves again.

“Charlie, what's wrong with you? Come on, out you go.” I grab her collar and pull her towards my bedroom door, shutting the door, quickly, in her face before she can get back into the room. She barks, growls and scratches at the door, stopping when the guy groans again.

Biting my bottom lip I walk back over to the bed, pressing my palm against his forehead to see if his fever was gone. Its not and the ice in the bucket of water I brought up after I managed to get him into the bed has melted. Ringing out the wash cloth I lay it on his forehead, scowling down at him. “I wish you'd wake up and tell me what the hell happened to you. I cleaned you up all I could, but those gashes on your back are gonna need stitches.” And I do not do stitches. No way, no how, not for anyone.