Sunitha had barely been able to keep the smile off her face as he had left her home. He had been stuttering and unsure and it was just so adorable. But he had left. It was almost as if he had never been kissed by a girl he wasn't related to before. Or maybe it was because she had surprised him in a way he hadn't liked. She wouldn't put it past him. Heck, just about everyone in the colony hated her, so why not Quinn, too? Besides, if he had liked her, wouldn't he have kissed her back or something? Or maybe it really was that he was just nervous. Or crazy-- he had threatened her life after all.
After he had stepped out her door, she peered after him, watching him walk away with just the slightest hint of sadness on her face. After a minute or so, she shook her head and pulled herself back inside before anyone could catch her.
Empty. The shack was so very empty. And lonely. Sunitha had almost forgotten how lonely it could be having no one. Quinn, with his awful attitude and even worse behavior, had been a gift from the Gods, really. Something to remind her that not everyone truly hated her, that she could still help some people, that she wouldn't be alone forever even if it seemed like it right then. Now, though, she was alone. The shack was silent save for the sound of her own sigh as it slipped from her lips. Every once in a while the sink would clunk, but it was little comfort.
Brown eyes scanned the shack, taking in sight. So much had happened in just a few hours. There was some blood on the floor near the makeshift couch. She imagined there was probably some in the makeshift bed as well. It all needed to be cleaned up, that was for certain. Plus it would give her something to do. She was always looking for things to do on the days she didn't need to go out and buy food or supplies. Cleaning was more than welcome.
Tying her hair back after having slept on it, she was ready to get to work. She wet a towel and started on the floor. Scrubbing was repetitive, but it was still something. Sunitha went through the motions over and over. Her mind began to wander away from the state of the shack and back to the man who had just left her company. Quinn. She was finding it difficult to get him off her mind.
In truth, she probably should have hated the man. Sunitha was certain she was nearly incapable of hate, though. She simply cared about others too much and found too many reasons why she shouldn't hate them. Quinn was different. He had given her so many reasons not to like him. His bad attitude, his lies, the death threat. By all rights, she should honestly and truly hate him. But he was the first person in months who had shown up on her doorstep without ill-intent. He had actually needed her help. Her mind wandered to that moment when she opened the door and saw him standing there. Tall, gangly, red-haired, and pale. And bleeding. Couldn't forget the bleeding. He'd gotten shot in the shoulder and she had gone almost instantly into her professional self, doing what she needed to in order to help the man she knew absolutely nothing about.
The scrubbing stopped for a moment as she looked up at the ceiling, curiosity on her face. What had he been doing that he'd gotten a bullet to the shoulder? It seemed unlikely that she would ever find out. In fact, it seemed unlikely that she would ever even see the man again. The scrubbing resumed and her mind returned to its original conflict: why did she want to see him again?
In her head, she tried listing off the things that had made her stomach turn happily when he had been around. He was handsome, that was something. She recalled blushing when she had let her gaze linger on his bare chest for just a moment too long. The memory brought a warm tint to her cheeks and she scrubbed the floor a bit harder for it. The way he had wiped the blood off her elbow-- his touch in general. Could it just have been that she had been deprived of a kind touch? The way her heart fluttered at the memory, she doubted it, but it was still a possibility. The way he had seemed to care about her blanket that morning. It had been sweet, if he was even capable of such a thing.
Looking down at the floor where she had been scrubbing, she realized the towel had turned all pink from the blood. Now instead of cleaning, it was more like she was smearing the blood around. Frowning, she pushed herself up and threw the towel in the sink before grabbing a second one and going back to work on the floor.
Quinn was back in her mind. And she felt something she had not felt in some time-- worry. She was worrying about Quinn. Of course, after having him come to her doorstep with a bullet in his shoulder, how could she not worry about what might befall him next. Then it hit her, she really cared about this man. There was no explanation behind it, but it was there nonetheless. She wondered when it had started-- had it been when he'd gone crazy and tried to shoot her? Or had it been after that when he had been trying to hide his tears from her? Perhaps it had happened when he stopped acting gruff all the time and wiped the blood from her elbow. Sunitha didn't know and figured she never would actually figure it out.
Her mind went back to the floor. It seemed to be relatively clean now. She pushed herself up, away from where the stain had been. Thoughts of cleaning the makeshift bed were abandoned as she sat down, ready to write in her old diary about the man she had just met. The man who was not going to be leaving her thoughts anytime soon. Quinn.
No comments:
Post a Comment