Neighbour with benefits | LH

"I always thought you were gay."

Annie

30|"I always thought you were gay."

As soon as Luke left the station I collapsed, allowing every drop of water to leave my body in the form of salty tears. I was probably annoying the hell out of emo girl and tattoo guy but I didn't care, I hoped to never see them again.

After a little while my sobs turned silent and for all I know, I was the only person in the cell. That is, until tattoo guy decided it would be a good idea to introduce himself to the suicidal girl crying in the corner.

"Y'alright?" He poked my side, as if that were his way of comforting me. I shook my head, not opening my eyes or saying a word.

"I'm Connor. Don't worry, I'm not in here for anything... bad... just got into a fight is all." He sat next to me on the metal bench, closer than I would of liked, as he moved his head so he could try and see me.

"I'm Annie," I tilted my head up, looking at his profile. Black hair, black clothes, brown eyes, brown skin. Not very outgoing, but defiantly I face I will remember as he wasn't the ugliest person on the planet, he was actually quiet attractive but I had other things-people- on my mind. "Can I ask you something?"

"If it is if I killed someone, then no, I didn't. Go ahead." He chuckled, obviously in a lighter mood than I was.

"Why do guys find the need to hurt someone when they're angry?" He laughed at my question first before shrugging his shoulders.

"It depends. Theirs two reasons. A) the person they are fighting is a total douche and deserves it or B) it's over a girl." He counted his fingers as he listed the two things, meeting my gaze with a wide, white toothed smile.

"Well, why do you fight over girls?" He leant back now, a smile never leaving his lips as he stared at the bars in front.

"You might not believe me but, the right girl can change a man. Make him a better, stronger and even more of a caring person. So when some dick, sometimes even your friends, show too much interest in your girl, you have to let them know she's taken. It's like; the harder you hit the more you love her, if you get me?" His eyes shimmered as he spoke, absent-mindedly playing with the ring on his finger as he spoke.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience." I muttered, putting my arms through the sleeves of Luke's jacket as a cool breeze swayed through the room.

"She's my fiancé. We're getting married in December. She makes me believe that anything is possible." He was blushing now, yet again playing with the engagement ring on his finger.

"She's a really lucky girl, you must love her to pieces." I nudged his arm, feeling slightly more comfortable now that I knew he was taken.

"I spoil her rotten. But, I'd do anything for her. Anyway, that kid most love you if he's talking back to the police, damn, I wouldn't do that." He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"No, he was just drunk."

"We both know that's not the case. He loves you, he gave you the look-"

"-the look?"

"- the same way I look at my fiancé and my brother looks at his kids. Where you realise just how lucky you are. That their was a one in seven billion chance you'd meet them, and you did. You won." He took a pen out of his pocket, which I would of thought would be taken off him, and started to right numbers on my arm. It was a phone number, presumably his.

"If you ever feel like he doesn't love you. Call me and I'll be your boy translator." He laughed, putting the pen in his pocket as sitting back, humming his own tune.