Chapter Text
He was here, in her bedroom just like she had known before. He was holding a handful of flowers. She looked from the flowers to him and back, gaping.
She was about to call for her mother when he whispered, "don't scream."
She was barely holding in her tears, but she still managed to ask, "What are you doing here?"
"I brought you flowers," he said with a blank face.
She gaped at him some more, trying to find words and failing. At least it seemed like he didn't come to harm her again so she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and was finally able to speak again, "why?"
He frowned slightly, which oddly helped to calm her further, at least he did seem to have emotions.
"Because you're nice, and you're pretty," he said.
For a moment, she was again at a loss for words, but she had had enough. She waved her cast at him and whisper-yelled, "you broke my hand!"
He looked at her cast, seemingly noticing it only then, and when he looked back at her eyes and she could've sworn she saw a flash of red in them. He whispered again, his face again blank, "you let me fall."
"Because you broke into my room!" Her voice was rapidly increasing in volume, "and you're doing it again!"
"Don't. Scream." He punctuated, and again his eyes turned red, only this time they stayed that way. That did manage to shut her up and brought the tears back. She might have been dreaming so she subtly pinched her thigh with her good hand. Nope, she very much felt that.
He looked at her cast again and frowned, his eyes coming back to normal. After a few seconds, he said, "I shouldn't have harmed you."
She just kept looking at him and said nothing.
"I got angry and couldn't control my strength," he admitted.
She set her eyes on her cast with a frown of her own. "How did you break it? How are you so strong?"
She looked back at him only to see that his eyes were again red. He walked towards her desk and nonchalantly picked it up with his empty hand. She stared at the display open-mouthed.
"You must not tell anyone," he said after putting her desk back down.
"Why? How? What are you?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
He looked at her for a long moment. If it weren't for his stoic expression, one could've said that the question had been rude and hurtful. She had to suppress a smirk.
"I'm... not from here," he said, "I crashed into the woods near my parents' house in a spaceship."
It was official, she had gone insane. "I'm having delusions, aren't I?"
In a blink, he was in front of her, his face only inches from hers. It was all she could do not to scream, and instead gasped loudly.
"No," he said, and he slowly raised his hand and put it in front of her face, touching her forehead, her eyes and her cheeks. She was paralyzed in fear, but she sure felt his hand on her.
"Don't," she muttered.
"Don't what?" He asked, still moving his fingers all over her face and her hair. He was only focusing on his hand's movement and it was difficult to tell if he'd even heard her.
"Don't stand so close," she whispered, almost choking on her tears.
He finally lifted his hand and looked at her. His lips curved downwards, clearly displeased, but suddenly he was again standing a couple of feet from her bed. She could finally exhale and looked at his eyes, but he was only looking at her and seemed in no hurry to talk.
"You..." she cleared her throat. "You are fast."
"Yes."
"Is that how you got into my room?" At this point she was just trying to break the horrible silence.
"Yes."
"Why?" She asked, looking down at her closed laptop, no longer having the strength to withhold his stare.
"Because you're nice..." he started.
"And I'm pretty, yes," she snapped. "You could've told me that at school."
"Why?" It was his turn to ask. She looked back at him to see him frowning, he did seem to be genuinely confused.
"What do you mean?" She asked, again unable to form any other words.
"My father told me that it was ok if I liked girls and that there was no problem if I did something about it," he answered.
"But... but that doesn't mean you can break into my room!" She exclaimed. He glared at her and she shut back up.
"Why not?" He asked again. "I can do it without anyone seeing me."
"But it's... it's not normal!" She said.
"I'm not normal," he countered. "I'm better."
She had no answer to that. By all appearances, he was better than other people. He was still a creep, though.
"Nobody likes strangers breaking into their room," she whispered, looking back at her laptop.
"We're not strangers," he pointed out.
"Well, no, but we barely know each other and you never asked for permission."
He didn't say anything after that and she dared to look at him again. He was only staring at her in confusion.
"Permission?" He finally asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Why do I need permission? I'm superior."
"Because that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!" She exclaimed, though this time careful not to raise her voice.
He mulled over it for a moment before saying, "I don't care, nobody can stop me."
She glared ad him before wiping the tears from her eyes and snapping, "so what? Are you going to kill people?"
He seemed deep in thought before speaking again, "if I have to."
"What do you mean?"
"The ship I crashed in talks to me," he whispered. For once, he seemed to be the nervous one, "I'm supposed to 'take the world'"
"Ta... take the world?"
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know," he had finally stopped looking at her, and now was staring at the floor, his eyes moving erratically.
"What do you want?" She asked after another too long silence.
He raised his eyes back at her. He seemed not to know what to say either.
This was too much. She hugged her knees with her good arm and buried her head on her legs, she whispered, "Why me?"
"Because you're nice and you're pretty," he repeated.
She felt like throwing something at him, or asking him if he was a parrot. Eventually, she settled on, "there are other nice, pretty girls at school."
"I don't care," he said, suddenly sounding much closer. She quickly lifted her head and sure enough, he was standing next to the left side of her bed.
He was staring at her, but there was something different about his expression; it looked not unlike how her mother's boyfriend sometimes looked at her mother. She immediately blushed and looked away.
"You... you... like me?" She asked, looking at anywhere but him.
"Yes," he said, it seemed like he struggled to get the word out.
"But, I... don't like you," she said, still trying not to look at him.
No sooner she got the words out as the lights in her room started to flicker rapidly and she could've sworn she felt the house itself shaking. She looked back at him and his expression was one of horrible fury, he had closed his fists—twisting her flowers in doing so—and his eyes were not only red, but shining brightly.
Almost on instinct she grabbed his arm and yelled, "stop!"
He reacted to her touch by looking at where her hand was grabbing his arm, his eyes stopped shining—though they remained red—and the flickering stopped. He seemed like he was finally able to speak again, "you don't like me?"
For a moment she could only look at him with her lips trembling, even her arm was still shaking despite gripping him tightly. What was she even supposed to say? If she told him no again, he might be able to destroy the house.
She looked down, at her cast, and then raised her arm to wave it at him again. "You broke my hand."
"I already told you I shouldn't have," he said, shaking his head once with a grimace.
"But you still did it," she mumbled. At least his eyes had become green again, so he was far less scary.
"Fine," he said, then his face went blank and he stated, "I'm sorry."
It was obvious that he was lying and that he was not really sorry, but she was far too tired to contradict him. "It's fine," she lied, "but it doesn't matter anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"My mom told me not to talk to you," she whispered, looking back at him.
Sure enough, his eyes flashed red again and he walked away from the bed.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
"To fix it."
"To fix what?" She whispered.
"Your mother," he answered looking back at her. Once again his expression was blank.
"What are you gonna do?!"
"I won't let anyone get in the way," he was already at the window.
"No, please, wait!" She exclaimed.
He turned to look back at her, to see her crying. He was going to hurt her mother, what could she do? What could she do?
"Please, don't hurt my mom," she cried, "I... I will still talk to you, I won't tell her anything."
He was still next to the window, his expression not revealing whether he believed her or not. After a long moment, he asked, "you promise?"
"Y... yes," she choked out.
"Stop crying," he said, his eyebrows frowning again.
She took a few deep breaths and finally managed to calm herself. As soon as she wiped her eyes, she saw him sitting on the bed next to her feet. He wordlessly handed her the twisted flowers and this time she took them. He looked at her in expectation, and she looked back at him, her forehead creased. He looked down at the flowers and then at her, and she followed his gaze before pursing her lips for a split second.
"Thank you," she whispered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
And to her surprise, and for the first time since he came into her room, he smiled. "You're welcome."
The little energy she still had was quickly leaving her, and her eyes were almost closing by themselves now. "I'm really tired."
He just looked at her, but this time he did seem to understand her meaning. He nodded, stood up and walked towards the window but, before she could breath a sigh of relief, he turned back.
"Can I sleep here tonight?" He asked.
Her mouth dropped open, "what?"
"I want to stay here, and you told me that I still needed to ask permission."
"I... I..." for what seemed like the tenth time this evening, she couldn't articulate.
He frowned again, "you want me to leave?"
"No!" She whisper-yelled, whatever the case, she knew by now that it was better not to tell him no. "It's just that we don't have a guest bedroom."
He looked confused for a moment but then, once again to her surprise, smirked. "No, I meant here in your room."
She blushed deep crimson, "that's... that's not... that's rude."
"Rude? Why?" He asked and she blushed even more at noticing that he was teasing her.
"I mean, that's... that's not what we should be doing. My mo..." she stopped short at his sudden change in expression. "Someone might talk."
"Nobody will see me leave," he countered.
"The bed is small?" She asked more than said. It was obvious now that she wasn't going to win this one.
"I don't care," he said with another smirk.
"F... fine," she said, scooting over to the very left border of the bed.
In a flash, he was on the bed next to her, making her jump slightly. She was going to have to get used to him moving like a bullet.
She put the laptop on the floor and lied down, trying not to look at him even though she knew he was staring intensely at her. Ultimately, she couldn't resist looking in his direction and, as if on cue, he brought his lips on top of hers in a short, closed-mouthed kiss, she closed her eyes at the suddenness despite herself.
"Good night," he whispered.
"Good night," she answered.
She turned, giving him her back, and lied on her good arm. This was a mistake, as he didn't miss his chance and snaked his arm below her cast, hugging her to him. She shuddered all over her body at his closeness, but dared not say a word. After what seemed like hours, and long after his breathing had stabilized, she finally did manage to fall asleep.