Barefoot

Part Three

Feel the beauty of nature? He thought. What a strange thing to say. Nonetheless, he accepted her response. He knew she was being truthful when she had answered with that; the smoldering look in her eyes had told him so. Her bright green eyes had lit up when she talked about it and life seemed to dance in her eyes.

He had watched her while she had watched everything around her, his heart jumping when her eyes met his. He wanted to smack himself for being so cold, but when she had asked about things being hard, it was his natural instinct to clam up and protect himself.

He stood up, his clothes and hair dry. He leaped across the stream, landing just past the sharp rocks. He grabbed his socks and shoes and put them on, kneeling down to double knot the laces on his boots. He reached down and grabbed his jacket, reaching into the pocket to find his phone. Checking the time, he sighed when he realized he had missed dinner. Knowing his mother though, she had left a plate out for him to heat up.

He was about to walk away but he stopped. He turned back to the girl and saw her shiver slightly as the breeze ran across her bare skin. Sighing, he walked back and asked, "Can I give you a ride home?"

Her shocked look told him that she was surprised by the gesture. He saw sadness enter her eyes as his words processed in her mind and he immediately felt guilty, though he had no idea what he had said wrong. "I don't have one," she murmurs.

"Don't have a what?" He asks, not following what she said.

"A home," she whispers. "I don't have anywhere to go." She looks from him into the forest. "I was planning on sleeping here for tonight."

He follows her gaze to see soft, springy grass under a large maple tree. Having lived here his whole life, he knew it could get cold overnight and rain in the blink of an eye. If it was anyone else, he would have shrugged and left, but his heart was refusing to let him do that.

"Come to mine tonight," he offers, surprising not only her, but himself as well. What had prompted him to say that?

"Oh no, I couldn't." She looks back to the tree. "I couldn't impose like that. It would be rude."

"It wouldn't be imposing if I'm inviting you. Plus, my mother loves having company."

Her green eyes are lighter now and he realizes it's because she isn't sad anymore. "Are you sure?"

He nods, giving her a small, lopsided smile. "Yeah."

"Okay." She moves to stand up and he tries to warn her, but he isn't fast enough. She steps down onto a extremely sharp rock, one that he knows well. He made the same mistake just after discovering this place nearly two years ago. He was trying to jump off the rock she had been siting on, but had slipped and cut his foot. He'd had to go to the doctor and get stitches.

She winces but doesn't stop. She keeps walking towards him until she's on the grass, only stopping then to inspect her foot. It's bleeding along the inside, on the area between the arch of her foot and her heal.

She pales at the sight of it and sways slightly on her feet. He realizes that she must not like blood and puts a steadying arm around her waist as she sways even more. "I-I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't be," he responds. He sits her down onto the grass and looks at the cut. "Stay here, okay? I'll be right back." He glances at her and hopes she won't pass out. Judging by the whiteness of her face, it looks like she just might. He starts to set his jacket down but sees her shiver, and instead moves to rest the jacket on her bare shoulders.

"Thank you," she says, smiling at him. He gives her a tight lipped smile back and turns, walking back to his motorcycle. Once there, he grabs the small first-aid kit from the bag attached to the seat and walks back.

She doesn't appear to have moved an inch since he left. He kneels down and opens the first-aid kit, quickly cleaning it and getting a clear look at it. "It isn't bad," he tells her. "It won't need stitches or anything, just a bandage."

She nods. "It doesn't even hurt that bad. I just-" She stops, giving him a shy look.

"-can't stand the sight of blood," he finishes for her, looking at her eyes. He sees her cheeks flush in embarrassment and he gives her a tiny smile. "It's okay. A lot of people can't."

She watches as he bandages her foot; he can feel her eyes. He places a small pad of gauze against the cut and then gets some tape from the kit, taping the gauze securely to her foot. Then he helps her back to her feet.

She gingerly puts weight on it, and he assumes it must not hurt too bad because she immediately starts walking around. "Come on," he says.

She follows him with a smile as bright as the sun, lighting up the night sky.