I give a soft smile as I caress his cheek. “I’m glad I met you,” I whisper in his ear, feeling his hand on my chest. “It was shocking how we met though.”

It was a normal day on my family’s farm, I was only just out of high school, and already my aunt and uncle wanted me to do the farm work I was “so accustomed” to. But in truth, I wasn’t, I hated and resented it, I even had a few days where I was sore and would fake being sick just to get out of the work.

More often than not, my uncle caught on and would double my workload upon day’s end. I gave my uncle Jackson a smile, as he tapped my back and walked over to two cars, one mine, the other his. My uncle handed me the car keys. “Held onto them like ya wanted,” he said and went to his car, opening the door. “See ya at home, Elliot.”

My uncle was old fashioned, believing in a perfect country world, my ideal world is the opposite, but I never told him instead I simply kept my mind to myself, as I had no one to talk to. I sometimes gave him subtle hints, but they never seemed to land and would often get me a questioning eyebrow from either my aunt or uncle. That was the day I learned that he and I had very big differences.

I nodded and he closed his door and started the car, leaving me there. I looked around and waited for Jackson to leave before I looked back, I knew what I wanted, but my uncle would scold me for such desires outside of the farm. I wanted to be a writer, a published author, as of now I am legally able to do what I please, but I know he’d guilt me, if he didn’t just yell and force me to work.

Not to say he was a mean guy, but he wasn’t who I hoped I would end up with. I hoped I would’ve ended up with my other aunt and uncle from my father’s side, they lived a cozy life in the city, instead I was forced to move to the closest relatives which sadly was two country folk. But you know, it wasn’t all bad, on those days I was kind of tired, Nathan; the farmhand would tell me to head to a tree and sleep under it for and catch a few winks. I was always grateful and would always tell him thanks.

Nathan was more of a friend than anything else, and often I found him like a kindly man. He was young when he started he said he was about eighteen when he started on the farm. He was twenty as I graduated; proud of me even, that was at least what I hoped and that was who I was waiting for. Nathan.

I saw him after a few more families left, he sat there until he noticed me, and gave me a soft, loving smile. “There he is!” cheered Nathan. “There’s Elliot!” he smiled and got up, walking next to me and wrapping an arm around my side. I gave a light blush, for reasons I never delve into. “Congrats, bud!” he said tapping my shoulder blade. It was always strange, no matter how much workout I got, I never gained muscle, so I always looked boring, skinny, black hair, green eyes.

I nodded to him. “Need a ride home?” I asked, seeing him shake his head, he likely was going to walk, he liked walking, not much of a shock. “Okay, I get it.” Not moments later did he turn around and began to walk. I, on the other hand unlocked my car with a click of a button on my keys. I got in and put the keys inside the ignition.

That’s when things stopped being normal, as I saw a car on the side of the road, about half way from my house, curiosity got the better of me, and I tugged on my shirt. I do that when I know something bad will come. I went to the wreckage and found someone laying there, his hands on the seatbelt; it looked like he was trying to get out. But failed, as it was apparent, his hair was long and combed to the side, but his hair was looking like it would fall over his eye when wet.

I tapped him on the shoulder, I could see faint breathing. I grabbed the handle and opened the car door, to the complete and utter stranger. I got him into my car and set him to the passenger side. I had a moment where I looked at him, he was handsome, although I knew he would be even more handsome without the tares on his forehead and cheeks, as well as the blood on his hands.

I took him to the hospital and heard many teenage girls squeal with delight, though I didn’t know why at the time. I didn’t know I was bringing someone of note to the hospital, nor would I care at that, all I saw was someone who needed desperate help.

I sat there in the waiting room, I didn’t really know why I was waiting for a man I only met an hour ago to wake from what I could believe to be a coma. But I still sat there, waiting, I wondered if I should’ve called my uncle and aunt about how late I’d be, but I decided to simply leave it to fate. I felt my eyelids get heavy and when I let my eyes close for a moment, I felt a man touch my shoulder. “Mister, you bright the young man with brown hair in, correct?” a male nurse asked, in which I responded with a nod. “He’s awake, if you’d like you can talk with him.”

I followed the nurse to the room where he was lying there awake; his eyes held open just barely. “Here he is, Mr. Tomlinson . . .” the nurse said, and rubbed the back of his head. “Do you think I could get an autograph for my daughter?” he asked holding a piece of paper and a pen.

Louis took the pen, and pressed it to the paper and looked at the nurse. “Her name?” he watched the man as he fiddled with his wallet. “Nicole.”

I watched as Louis swayed his wrist and began writing out his name, he handed him the paper and smiled. “There you go,” he said, shifting his attention to me, and I tensed up, I was right, he had distinct features that made him handsome, his strong looking jaw, his rebellious clothing, his trimmed beard, and throw his speaking voice on top of that, you got yourself quite the man.

I found myself staring at him, soon to notice even though I didn’t hear him, he was speaking. I shook my head and looked at him and smiled. “You’re the guy who saved me?” he asked, in which I replied with a nod. “Thanks, bud . . .” he said with a wide smile. I wanted to ask what happened to cause the accident, but that was for another time, hopefully there will be another time. “Name’s Louis Tomlinson.”

I choked for some reason. “E-E-Elliot Teller . . .” I said, with a stutter I suddenly developed. Louis gave me a warm smile, which he returned quickly.

“Hey, E-E-Elliot Teller.” He smirked.

Notes