It felt so liberating to be out again. The breeze in my hair, the beating of my feet along the ground. It had been too long since I had ran. After Michael had left, I barely wanted to get changed out of my pyjamas, let alone throw on Lycra and leave the house. But it had been nearly a year now, and since he had clearly moved on with his new shiny blonde 'Stacey', that gave me a great incentive to get back into shape. The sun was shining, but it was a cool April morning; perfect running weather.
It was a trail I hadn't ran before, one of my girlfriends had recommended it. A 40 minute drive from my house, so I was pretty sure I wouldn't run in Michael or any old mutual friends and 'well-wishers'. Regardless, I'd put on my nicest grey patterned workout leggings and matching crop top, and swept on a layer of waterproof mascara. Didn't hurt to look nice right? One last 'You got this Jen' In the car mirror, and I had stepped out onto the path.
I'd barely passed anyone my entire run, just a couple of old dears walking dogs, and one couple that looked extremely suspicious loitering by a bush. I felt, for the first time in a long time, like myself again. My lungs burned, my calves ached, and it felt incredible. Michael had never particularly liked me running; I always had a small frame, but I was definitely hourglass, and in his words 'I'm worried if you run too much, you'll lose your tits and arse.' Looking back there were clear red flags.
I was only 5 minutes away from being back to the car when I was blindsided by him. I'd been watching my feet to avoid tripping over a log, and when I'd looked up he passed me. A huge hulking frame of muscle, topless and glossy with sweat. His had a mop of dark brown curls and deep chocolatey eyes that caught mine as I looked up. He smiled and my heart fell out onto the ground below. The next bit happened entirely too quickly for me to keep up; he kept jogging as I slowed to get a better look, and as he passed I turned to keep him in sight...only my feet didn't get the memo. I ended up in a tangle of my own legs, and immediately tripped over something (maybe my heart), sending myself headfirst and very painfully into a rocky verge.
Fucks sake.
"Shit! Are you ok?"
His beautiful face came into view above me, framed by the branches of the bush I'd landed in. His eyebrows were knitted up in concern, and his hand reached out towards me. Brushing the leaves out of my face I took his warm hand in mine and let him hoist me effortlessly up.
"...hello? Are you ok?" He asked again, and I realised I'd just been staring vacantly at his chest. I was pretty sure he had muscles that hadn't been formally identified and named by the scientific community yet.
"Oh yer, no no I'm all good. Just a little tumble, don't worry. I do it a lot." I rambled on, trying to assure him I didn't have a major brain injury. I might not have been very convincing.
"You...do it a lot?" His mouth pulled up into a smile again, and I noted that his hand was still gripping mine.
"I don't know why I said that." I could feel my cheeks warming to an embarrassing scarlet colour. Ideally the ground would have swallowed me up at this point.
"Oh shit! Your arm...does it hurt?" He looked down and my eyes followed his. Along the length of my forearm from wrist to elbow was a large bloody graze, matted with bits of tree and leaves.
"Oh wow! Didn't notice that." As soon as I'd seen it, the stinging pain swept up my skin, along with a cold sweat at the back of my neck. I'd never been good with blood. I thought maybe I'd be ok if I just tried not to think about it.
"It doesn't look awful, but definitely needs cleaning...are you sure you're ok? You don't look great."
I'd tried to conjure up a witty and flirtatious remark when a wave of nausea hit me, then everything when dark. I just remember his arms coming forward to catch me
- - -
I woke up stretched out on a beautiful cloud, soft and cosy and warm underneath me, I could almost convince myself to just keep my eyes closed and sleep, but a loud clattering and a 'fuck' from the distance had me sat bolt upright. I was on a couch- large soft brown leather with a white fur throw cast over it (and me on top of that), in somebody's living room. Somebody well-off by the size of the place. A large stone fireplace dominated the room, and behind me I could see an open serving hatch into a kitchen. In that kitchen I could see a mop of brown curls bobbing around behind a marble island.
"Where the fuck?...aha!"
He bobbed up to full size and I had a glorious uninterrupted view of his broad muscular back for a moment. I thanked god quietly that he'd decided against a t-shirt that day. He marched off and next appeared in the doorway to my right, a tray in his hands with bottles and bandages strewn across hastily.
"You're awake! I was starting to worry a bit there. I've seen people faint but it's been like 15 minutes."
"Where am I?..."
"My place sorry. I just wanted to get you back and cleaned up and I only live like 2 minutes from the trail...I promise I'm not a murderer." He took a seat on the coffee table in front of me, his knees skimming against mine, and rifled through the objects on the tray.
"But isn't that exactly what a murderer would say?"
He laughed, and I melted at the sound. I was quite sure I'd let him murder me if that's what he wanted.
"Let me see..." he gestured towards my arm, and that's when I remembered. The blood was dry now, and crusted around the scab, along with several chunks of forest.
"Don't pass out on me again please. That's enough drama for one day."
"No, I promise I'll stay conscious now...you don't need to do that, If you point me in the right direction I can sort this at home." I stood up and he looked up at me from the table, his face at breast-level and that wry smile still glued to his face.
"But I've just raided my cupboards for TCP and savlon. My mum always told me to have some in, and I've never had a reason to use it before today. You're going to make me put this all back away?" His smile broke out into a grin and he dropped the bandage he was unraveling down onto the tray in a mock 'huff'.
God I wanted to kiss those perfect white teeth.
I sat back down, held out my arm, and allowed him to carefully clean it up. He soaked a cotton pad in something from a dark amber bottle and pressed it to my skin.
"Tsssss shit." It stung like a motherfucker, and I snapped my arm back out of his grasp.
"Sorry! I'll be as quick as I can...why don't you tell me about yourself?...like your name?" He gently held my arm and brought the cotton pad back down.
"Jennifer...Jen. What's yours?"
"Nice to meet you Jennifer Jen, I'm Christopher Chris."
He was teasing me, but was it flirting? Was he just being friendly? I felt like a schoolgirl again pulling petals off of daisies. I was sure if anyone could help me get over Michael, this would be the man. He looked like he felled trees and broke in wild horses all day. He looked like a real man.
"What do you do Chris?"
