Chapter 2: 



 

*.☽.*
 

"OH, MY GOD!"

My hands flew to my mouth as I gasped upon seeing his face.
I was so surprised because, despite the rage written all over it, he looked very handsome. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared at me but that did not even make me blink. His disheveled hair was making it harder for me to look away. Like there was some sort of magnetic pull that I couldn't explain.

It was probably my exaggerated reaction that annoyed his face and instantly changed to panic. It seemed that he just noticed that he wasn't wearing his hat anymore. His body jerked as he hurriedly turned around to retrieve the bucket hat from the ground. He didn't waste any time putting it back on before tilting his head down. I suddenly sensed that he was trying to hide his face.

That's weird. Was it a mistake that I saw his face? I don't know but it somehow felt that way.

"A-are you okay?" I hesitated. 

He didn't answer, totally ignoring me as continued to look the other way. I watched him stand and immediately made a few steps away from me as if making sure that he was far enough for me to peek. I got confused about why he seemed awkward all of a sudden.

Why had he become so tense?

I threw him a scrutinizing look. I searched him from head to toe then my eyes stopped on his right hand. It was bleeding. He must have used it as support when he landed on the ground or it must've hit a stone or something sharp. I looked at the area where we landed and saw several small, pointy rocks. I flinched imagining how much it must have hurt. I got worried, so I absent-mindedly stood and walked toward him. However, as soon as he saw me move, he made hasty steps backward to avoid me.

"No." He refused, extending his left hand and demanding I stop from getting closer. "Don't come near me."

The demand in his voice was evident. My forehead creased as I tried to understand his reaction. I just didn't quite understand his behavior. He seemed...he's not scared though, I was sure. 

"Your hand is bleeding, let me see it," I told him pointing to his right hand.

He lifted his bleeding hand and it seemed like he just realized that he was hurt.

"I'm fine." He announced.

"No, you're not." I insisted as I watched his blood dripping on his skin. 

I didn't know how deep the cut was but it was bothering me. My eyes narrowed as I gazed at him hoping to somehow check his reaction but it was impossible because he was wearing the bucket hat again.

Was he perhaps a criminal? If he was, he would've done something bad already right? I debated in my head as I continued to watch him. He was trying to hide his identity, I concluded after a few more seconds of observing him. For what possible reason, I didn't know yet. 

"I promise, I won't look at your face." I cautiously told him. "Just...just let me see your hand," I added, feeling responsible for what happened to him.

When he didn't show any signs of objection, I took the chance to come near him. Contrary to what I just said, I was tempted to look up at his face. I used every ounce of energy I had to stop myself from breaking my word. I shouldn't do it if I wanted him to trust me.

I felt him twitch as I carefully reached for his injured hand. For some reason, I was instantly distracted when I took a closer look at it. It was not because of the blood but because of his beautiful hand. I couldn't help but adore it. He had slender fingers with equally beautiful nails. His skin felt so smooth as well, making me a little insecure about my own hands.

I've never seen a man's hand this beautiful.

I heard him clear his throat and my private bubble exploded.

I shook my head as I came to my senses again, feeling a little embarrassed. I did my best to focus on the wound. I was right, there was a cut and it was about an inch though I couldn't say if it was deep or not. All I knew was that it continued to bleed.

"It must have been one of the rocks," I told him, making sure my eyes didn't leave his hand. "We need to stop the bleeding."

"It's not going to kill me." He reasoned out, his tone flat and close to being harsh as he removed his hand from mine.

It was just then I noticed his voice. It wasn't so deep but it did sure have its character. There was authority and seriousness in his tone too.

Who is this man? Is he perhaps someone famous?

Before I could start gushing over his voice, I forced myself to think of something I could do. Ignoring his protest, I opened my purse and fished for a small bottle of water and a handkerchief. 

"I know it's not going to kill you but..." I paused. "It's bothering me," I added as I attempted to hold his bleeding hand again.

He protested by refusing to let me hold him. I looked at his face which I could not see anyway. I took a deep breath. I didn't understand exactly but I felt the need to take care of that hand. 

"Will you just let me help you?" I said firmly. "Please."

I was also surprised at my tone. I certainly didn't sound like I was begging him. It was more of telling him to let me.

"I promise I'll stop bugging you after." 

He didn't answer but I felt him relaxed so I took it as an agreement. I slo