You Changed Me

2. Hello Stranger

"I'm done."

Ethan's head shot up, startled, and he spun around in his chair. He went to stand, but his spinning chair was still, well, spinning, and caught his side. He wobbled and had to take a few strangely placed steps to keep his balance as he held his arms out. When he was done wobbling, he stood up straight with a blush and awkward smile.

"U-uh... hi-" he cut himself off and started. The guy was clean now, free of blood and dirt. And damn, he looked good. He was well built, lean but toned. His hair was fluffy and green and his eyes were a startling blue. He shook his head a little and felt his face heat up enough that he felt like he was on fire. "U-uh..."

"Hi," the guy said, sounding awkward but confident. A strange mix, but Ethan couldn't help but let a small smile flit across his lips. He moved closer to the guy, so they weren't separated by an entire bedroom, and held his hand out.

"I, uh...wait. Weren't you, like, severely bleeding and bruised and shit?" he questioned, coming closer to look at the pretty guy. First, he grabbed his arms, looking them both over in suspicion. He was sure the man had had a long slice down his arm...

Then he lifted both his gaze and his hands to the guys face. He gripped his chin lightly, fingers brushing over stubble as he moved from side to side. He raised his hands to the other guys blue eyes and brushed his fingers over his eyelids, as to check for bruising or coverup.

After finding nothing he stepped back and crossed his arms with a sigh. He gave a wary glance at the stranger he'd invited into his home. "You're not some weird dude that gets horny off pain right? Or some serial killer or murderer using the guise of some wounded dude to find your victims?" he asked, keeping his voice surprisingly strong.

The guy blinked and shook his head with a chuckle. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm not t'hat... I've just. Hah. You wouldn't believe me if I told yeh," he said with another shake of his head. Ethan couldn't help but blink at him though.

"You're Scottish?" he asked with a surprised voice. He frowned a little when the guy's facial expression seemed to shift to one of surprise, and not the good kind, and a bit of anger.

"Scottish?! I'm fockin' Irish, not Scottish!" Green hair snapped and Ethan couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Well sorry, Mister Irishman. All the accents sound the same to me," he said with another roll of his eyes and a cheeky smile. The Irishman's face quickly relaxed into an almost annoyed, but also fond, smile.

"I'll let ya off t'his time. But next time, it's a battle ta the death!" he said, loudly and teasingly. Ethan playfully scowled back and they stared each other in the eye for a good thirty seconds. That is before they both started to laugh at their antics.

Ethan then slid himself between green hair and the door, moving out into the hallway. He headed towards the kitchen, wanting to get a glass of water or something else to satisfy his dry throat.

He could hear the other guy following him, feel his crystal gaze on his back. But he didn't acknowledge it, instead, he entered the kitchen and opened the cup cupboard, reaching for a glass.

"Want anything?" he asked, shooting a small glance to the man now standing in his kitchen doorway, looking nervous. He smiled softly and turned to the sink, filling his own cup with water. Then he leaned against the counter with a raised brow.

"Well? You gonna answer or are you just going to stand there all day, Mister Irishman?" he asked with the slight tilt of his head. The guy shook his head as his eyes flitted around the room. It was as if he was looking for something, checking. His gaze would constantly jump back to Ethan though as if he was paranoid Ethan would jump him or something.