The Storm Between Us (REWRITING)

Pasts

Esmeralda jerked back slightly, looking away. thunder shook the building, her fingers separated before forming a fist. she continued to do that for a moment before she spoke. "my parents died in a storm when i was a toddler. i didn't have any family so i was put in foster care until i turned eighteen. i never really found family so," she trailed off. "how many tattoos do you have?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"17, why do you do that?" he gestured to her hands. "you've done it several times while i've been here."

she looked at her hands, "i use to dig my nails into my palms when i got nervous, when i was a teenager. i use to do it so much i had cuts on my palms and scars and it became a habit, i try not to do it anymore." she says, looking away from her hands. "when did you get your first tattoo?"

"i was 15 at my uncles place. is the storm making your nervous?" he asked.

"that's young," she commented, "somewhat, it's a bad storm. which tattoo?"

he showed her bicep, it was just a thin band around his bicep. "i didn't know what i wanted so he did that. i also was sarcastic and told him just to do a line on my arm so that's what i got. can i do anything?" he asked, his question sincere. he looked across her face, offering a tiny smile.

"no but thank you." she said, smiling back at him. "just keep talking to me. where did you come from?"

Sebastian parted his lips to give her a sarcastic remark but kept it to himself, "New York, i lived there all of my childhood until i was eighteen. why do you live here if you hate storms so much?"

"no where else to go. where else have you gone?"

"all over the place, i even lived in Italy for a year." he looked at her. "if you could go anywhere, where?"

"i don't really know, never thought about it. i don't think i'd go anywhere, no need to. what was your favorite place?"

"Texas," he smirked, "definitely." his eyes glinted with mischief before asking her question. "when did you start writing?"

"i can't remember, i think i've always done it honestly. what do you do, as a profession?"

"i box, i can kind of do tattoos, and whatever job is around where i am." he said, "what's your favorite word?"

his question surprised her, nobody really asked her that before. even though she already knew what it was, "tainted, i don't know why." a soft yawn left her lips before she could stop it. he chuckled slightly as she leaned her head against the couch. "you box?"

he nodded, "i've boxed for a while, it's a anger relief," he said, "how many books have you written?"

"good books? none. i mean in my opinion, i can never finish a book, i don't know why." she said softly, looking around sleepily. "do you fight other people?"

"yes, in the boxing ring and out of it. i box because it's like your writing just physical." he said. "don't you have picture of friends?"

"don't get out much, because don't talk about my non-existent pictures, my walls don't want them. what about out of the ring fighting?"

"anger issues." he said without explaining farther. "you don't like pictures?"

"not really honestly," she said, thinking of a question. "you don't seem like an angry person?"

"is that a question? maybe cause i'm not angry right now." he said, "anger issues doesn't mean always angry, just means i don't know how to control my anger." he shrugged. "are you tired?"

"kind of but i'm fine." she said, looking at him with heavy eyes. "how long will you stay here?"

"probably for a few months then i'll leave." he said truthfully. "go to sleep then. want me to be quiet?"

"no, i'm fine. keep talking to me. what's it like to box?" she asked, curious of the violent profession. she never could watch that stuff, she was too soft-hearted for it.

he nodded and began telling her a few things but it wasn't long before her eyelids fluttered shut. he continued to talk for a few moments, watching her until he saw her breathing slow and body relax.

he became quiet himself, looking at the smaller girl. her dark hair had been pulled into a ponytail during some part of their conversation. appearance wise she was pretty cute, not his usual type. he normally went for tall leggy and curvy. she was small, short, and thin. fragile.

he had this little feeling of protectiveness but he couldn't understand why. he didn't know her, there was no connection to him or debt. he stood slowly, gently picking up the petite girl in his arms. he walked towards what he assumed her room was, looking around in the dark before going to her bed.

when he placed her down he felt her hand wrap around his hand, her small hand clinging to his larger one. her sleeping figure curled up, he didn't yet have the ability to pull away. she seemed so small, so breakable.

she turned around some time later, letting go of him to curl into a ball. he grabbed a blanket, pulling it over her tiny frame. his eyes flickered over her face, she seemed even more kind in her sleep, her smooth features relaxed. her full lips in a slight pout as she dreamed. her long lashes slightly twitching as she was lost in her dreams.

Sebastian slowly moved away, looking around her room but his eyes moved back to the sleeping girl, almost as if to make sure he didn't wake her. he ran a hand through his now dried hair, breathing in heavily.

he walked to the door, looking over at her as lightening brightened the room. how her fragile state tugged on whatever he had in his chest. how had she twisted him around her already? it was unbelievable, she was a human.