Nine Lives

Bronzer

I propelled backwards, falling onto the metal and bruising my back, the damp mud seeping into my clothes as a very nasty word escaped my dry lips. My heart skipped a beat, a shiver spreading across my body and a wave of pain shooting up my spine. I let out a low moan and scrambled to my feet, my phone the only weapon I had to throw if I had to. Since being on the ground, the boy had stood up. I stared at him for what felt like centuries - his now curious eyes reflected emeralds from the sea, an ocean of green with specs of hazelnut brown; he towered over me, his legs long and defined in the running shorts I'd mistaken for joggers; he was obviously young, probably a few years older than me but with his dimple giving him a baby face; his hair fell to the top of his pierced ears, the bronzed silk falling in curtains to the top of his helix and fading as it reached the back of his head. He spread a wide smile as I stood with my phone raised and ready to launch, revealing a set of stunningly straight teeth.

"Scary weapon.", the boy interrupted my examination, a gruff, deep voice echoing around the damp walls that cornered us. He sounded amused.

"These tracks are made for trains, what the hell are you doing here?" I winced at the obvious fear in my strained voice.

"They are also meant for thoughts." He replied. What the hell was this? Some kind of twisted riddle?

"Not when death is imminent. These are active train lines." I lied, but what was he to know? I'd never seen this guy before.

"What is living without dying?" He smirked.

I was beyond certain. This guy was definitely crazy.

"Suicidal? Or just depressed?" I questioned sarcastically, plucking out my confidence and acting unphased...or who know's what kind of impression he would get. I stood up straighter and lowered my lethal weapon, still gripping it's sleek frame tight and ready to use if I had to.

"A realist, actually." He spread his smile further.

"A realist?" I scoffed. God knows I was seriously concerned now. The thump of my forgotten headphones created an eerie backing track to the tension between us, the sweat on the back of my neck and in-between my elbows no longer from running.

"I don't hide from my emotions, I feel them." He said, matter of fact, shoving his hands into deep pockets.

I followed his movement carefully. When he noticed my body tense, he withdrew his fingers, holding them up to show empty palms, shrugging his shoulders as I locked eyes with his. While he was clearly curious, I was carefully cautious.

"If you keep thinking on train tracks, you'll be feeling broken ribs, a fractured skull and a shattered spine". The sun was now higher in the sky, the town would be waking up soon. If I needed a quick get away, surely there would be someone around to help me on the main road.

"Morbid, but truthful. I appreciate that." He said, eyes lingering on my face just a second too long. He took a step closer.

I took two steps back. "What kind of death speech is that?"

"One that will be remembered. Written on a park bench, quoted in a museum or even memorialised on a stone statue"

"Or vandalised on a graffiti wall" I stated, half-heartedly mocking his bad boy appearance.

"Well, you've sparked my interest. What is one's fantasy?"

There was no way in hell I was having this conversation with bronzer boy. "One you will never find out."

"Is that a challenge?". His smile spread wider, if that was even possible.

"More like a threat."