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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1679637-The-Lions-Knight
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1679637
A short story about a bull headed girl that doesnt like to be saved, and a boy needs it.
A Lion’s Knight



         What a cold night. I’ve walked this block 5 times already and I can’t get the courage to go back home. Will he be there? I thought to myself. I hate that old man; him and his fists. I swore, one night his life is mine. That old rat dare’s to call me the, “Good for nothing son.”
         “What the- Who are you?” A young girl asked from behind me.
         A scream soon followed.
         Now what? I thought angrily. Turning around, I removed my hands from my sweater pocket: Started running toward the sound of the girl’s voice.
         “Get off!” The girl yelled, anger echoing though her words. I saw a punch hit the man’s cheek which sent him stumbling backwards. She ducked when he came at her, hurling over her into the wall.
         “Are you alright?” I asked as I stopped in front of her and the knocked out man behind her.
         “Yeah, fine. Why?”
         “Uh…” My gaze went down at the man who cracked his head into the wall.
         “Ohh, him. Nah, its fine. He wasn’t that big.” She squinted her eye’s, smiling. “I’m Jamie. You are?” Her head tilted.
         “Ryan.” My minds blank. What was I doing? Jamie extended her hand to me. I took it in mine. “Your hands are small.” I noticed, blurting out my thought randomly.
         “Maybe your hands are just too big, Ryan.” She pulled my hand closer to her. “Want some coffee, my almost prince charming? I live over here and you look cold.” Shoulder length brown hair hung straight with unimaginably brilliant blue eyes greeting me when I entered the third door on the 6th floor of the shabby apartment building.
         “You live alone? You can’t be more than eight-teen.”
         “I’m emancipated. Been so for a long time.” She tilted her head, indicating for me to close the front door behind me. “You’re my age, right?”
         “Yeah… Uh, I turn nine-teen in July.” Is she older than me? “I graduate soon.”
         “Well, it’s only December, so you still have a while to wait. And I'm already nine-teen, by the way, I graduated last year.” She started walking down the hall. I followed while shoving my hands back into my pockets.  I meandered after her as she hung a right, the cold that had crept into my bones and the skittishness of my will kept me moving at a snail’s pace.
         “When did you get, uh, emancipated?” I asked her, I really want to know. I’ve never been able to leave the house and live alone. Every time I leave the house and live with a friend I get dragged back. My father’s the chief of police after all. He always finds me.
         “When I was… six-teen, maybe? I got tired of living of my relative that only wanted the insurance pay out.” She laughed lightly.
         “So, you’re an orphan?” I sat down in a chair at the table.
         “Yep. Mom died after giving birth to me and my dad died later when I was 6.” She took coffee from the heated pot and poured it into two coffee cups. She continued while walking around and setting one of them in front of me. “Don’t even start feeling sorry for me.” She sat across from me at the table in the corner of the kitchen. “I love my life just as it is, thank you.”
         “Don’t you get lonely?” I took a sip of the liquid after adding in cream and sugar: she drank hers black. “That’ll kill your stomach.”
         “Yeah, probably.” She reached over and grabbed the cream, took a spoon full of sugar. “Nah, I don’t get lonely. Not when I spend my time bringing in stray dogs that try and rescue a defenseless woman.”
         “Chicago’s a dangerous place. Anyone would do the same.” I tool another sip while examining her delicate fingers as they held the cup.
         “Nope. You’re the first guy to run after me.” She laid her head on her palm, resting her elbow on the table. “Normally, people keep walking.”
         “I just hate violence against women. It’s disgraceful.”
         She looked me up and down. Just smiled and set down her cup.
         “So, I'm guessing it’s your dad you’re talking about?” She squinted her eyes as I moved mine to a different location. Anywhere else, and didn’t bother to register shapes. “Well. Since you rushed in and SAVED me and all, you might as well get yourself a shower and sleep on the couch.” She walked over to me, placed her hand on my cheek and made me look at her. I swallowed.
         “Thanks.” I managed finally, after what seemed like forever. She turned, opened a door, and looked back at me.
         “Shower’s here. I’m going to go to sleep; I’ll set some clothes one of my exes’s left behind on the couch.” She left. Left into her room and I went into the bathroom, showered, letting the hot water caress my skin. Let the scented soap flow and slide down my body.
         I sighed deeply. Nice to be warm again, not to mention safe. I winced when I wrapped the towel around a recent bruised side. I went outside the steam filled room and found the clothes on the pretty three seater the color of cream. I changed and when I laid down on the sofa, I almost felt like crying at the softness of it, the lingering scent of her.
         How can someone like her exist? I fell asleep to that thought.
         When I woke up, I smelt wonderful food, remembered where I was and smiled deeply.
         “Hey! What some?” She smiled brightly and lite the entire small confinement. Made it seem ten times bigger. I got up, meandered to her. She shoved the plate filled to the point of the food almost spilling over. An egg and ham concoction pilled with melted cheddar cheese. I sat at the table, noticed the yellow walls for the first time. Bright.
         She smiled at me again, started eating across from me. I followed her lead and eat, not sparing a bite. I like it here.
         
         
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