#51: An Honest Mistake
Christmas break has given
Me enough bored, spare time
To actually get involved with
101 Kisses
How they met:
From a different point of view.
She had heard the footsteps pounding towards her a good, long time ago. But, Lyss was perfectly happy being where she was, her butt on the dry concrete and her hands fiddling with the wet, soft grass. It had taken a long, long time just to get this far, to the point where she could touch even the hardiest of crabgrasses without it wilting or frying beneath her fingertips. She intended to enjoy it some more. Besides, she had no where to be.
Well, actually, she was supposed to be heading for the airport, but only god knew what direction that was in.
So, having heard the footsteps, Lyss had expected the woosh of a jogger running past her form, leaving a wake of wind behind her. She had not expected the sudden, absolute pain of having her entire body crushed beneath someone a good six inches taller than her. The crunch of her shoulder against the hard cement was also unexpected.
Had she been inclined to care, as she would have been only a few days earlier, Lyss would probably have screamed and raved and cried. But, her mood was too pleasant for that. Besides, the man looked terrified. He was apologizing, at least she assumed it was apology, loudly in the brash, sharp syllables of the natives. But, he was obviously a transplanted weed.
She recognizes him, from the hospital he works at, where she went to be treated for her strange, radioactive illness. In simple, low English, she replied quickly, "Hello. I'm afraid I don't know what you're saying. My name is Alyssa." The man stared at her in confusion, before a light spread across his face, and he tried to reply.
"I'm so-" She noted that he was Mediterranean before she cut him off.
"Don't care. Do you know where the airport is, though?" He nodded quickly, and his eyes were guilty, like a schoolchild caught doing something.
"Well, off we go then. I've got a plane to catch. You can call me Lyss, by the way."