Amila limped around the house seeing a bunch of holes and water leaks all over the ceilings. It was a three bedroom house with two bathrooms. She chose the room with the walk-in bathroom. She limped out to the living room, opening the closet, pulling out a broom and a couple of cloths,
"Alright", she muttered, "time to give this place a little love", she started off with the back rooms. The windows were all dirty and dusty causing her to sneeze here and there. She didn't have all the exact cleaning supplies but she'd make do with what she got. She hummed along to the song she was listening to, not hearing the footsteps behind her. Amila felt the vibrations on the wooden floor, she knew someone was behind her. An unwanted guest.
She swung the broom back hitting someone who grunted falling to his side. She pulled out her gun pointing it at the other man near the door. She felt the slight pain in her neck from moving too fast,
"Who are you?", she asked eyeing the one on the ground, her eyes trailed across the mans features, he was handsome. She eyes him as he spat out blood, frowning not realizing she hit him that hard. She placed her gun on the counter, limping to him. She kneeled down on her good knee,
"Your uh, Marcos Guzman, right?", she softly asked seeing him look over at her wondering how the hell she knew his name.
She leaned over gently touching his lip, wiping the blood, "sorry, you scared me. Didn't mean to hit you that hard", she says as he shakes his head.
Amila slowly lifted herself to stand seeing the man stand up, rolling his shoulders. He turned to her,
"What you doing here,cop?", he looked around to which she kept her eyes on him.
"My friend and I bought the house. Figured I get a head start on it by cleaning a little", she says coughing. She rubbed her throat, she leaned against the counter, sliding to the floor.
'Definitely reached my limit' she thought to herself.
The tall guy; Marcos kneeled down in front of her,
"You alright?", he asked seeing her clench her eyes shut.
Amila groaned with a nod,
"Just overworked myself...", she looked at him, "I was told my injuries would take two months to fully heal", she tells him. He raised an eyebrow, which she chuckled,
"I got shot a week ago...twice", she says rubbing the brace on her thigh, "wounds still fresh...", she mumbled.
Marcos shook his head,
"Why would you move out here, pigs normally stay away from the gangs", he said eyes trailing her body. He noticed a bandage on her neck, it had some red spots on it.
Amila smiled looking at him,
"Guess I'm a stubborn pig", she coughs holding her neck. He reaches out moving her chin to the right,
"Your bleeding...", he stated but she moved back, leaning her head against the cabinet.
"That's where I was shot...in my neck...Hmhm, must have irritated the stitches", she says.
Amila cleared her throat, sticking her hand out to him,
"I'm Amila by the way", she introduced herself. He grabbed her hand and boy was it rough yet gentle to touch, giving it a small shake, pulling his hand back. He looked back at his boy,
"Big Roy, take the trash out for her", he ordered. Amila tried to refuse but Marcos wasn't giving her a choice.
Amila took a seat on the counter with a groan, she definitely shouldn't have done that. She tried to ease the pain by rubbing it around, which it did not help at all. She sees Marcos lean on the counter beside her, "your doing it wrong!", he stated.
Amila frowned looking at him, she was exhausted,
"I know but...it really hurts", she softly says. He turned to her standing in between her legs, he put a hand under her thigh before using his other hand and rubbed the area right near the stitches, putting a good amount of pressure,
"Oh..", she muttered softly exhaling as he kept rubbing.
"My abuela taught me this...", he says and Amila smiled, "your abuela just became my new favorite person", she says seeing him smirk, "sooo...does that mean your abuela is the one taking care of you if you get hurt", she noticed Marcos nod
"Maybe"
Amila smiled watching him as he continued to ease the pain in her thigh. She also noticed he kept looking at her, well, more like observing.
"You can relax, big guy", she spoke up as he looked at her, "I'm not really a cop...I'm a weapons and tech specialist", she tells him.
Marcos shook his head,
"Still a cop!", he states.
Amila pulled out her badge, passing it to him,
"Technically not...read that sir", she pointed to her badge in his hands.
Marcos read her badge but shrugged,
"You still work with them", he pointed out.
Amila nodded, "yeah..true, I see your point", she laughed softly.
Once Marcos had finished, she was surprised with how gentle he was when he lifted her off the counter and slowly yet carefully placed her on her two feet,
"I better uh, get back to it...", she looked up at him, "thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it", she says as he nods. Marcos gestured for his boy to roll out, his eyes trailing Amilas body,
"Take care chica", he whispered walking out. Amila exhaled getting back to cleaning the house.
