‘Cardiff is really nice,’ Summer thought, glancing around the city centre. The weather was nice (for once), the view was nice, the people were ni—
She came back to herself half-a-second later, hands clamped to her head and swaying on her feet. “What the actual fuck was that?” she muttered under her breath. She made her way slowly to a side street, leaning against the wall and gasping in time with the fellow lying on the ground.
‘Wait, what?’
And that was blood, and the pulse of someone else’s pain in her blood, and she dropped to her knees beside the face-down figure. “Hey. Hey, how can I help?”
Jack waved a hand slightly, signalling that he’d be fine. It took a bit before he pushed himself up and swallowed thickly, at least to just his knees, choking down the leftover metallic taste of his blood. “My God, that hurt,” he gasped out with a bit of a raspy tone before he finally looked at her, somehow still holding out that usual flirtatious grin, “Actually, I kind of lied. You wouldn’t happen to have any water you don’t want anymore, would you? Can’t quite go into a shop looking like this.” He chuckled weakly before clearing his throat.
“I know it hurt,” she responded. “What happened, though? Actually, no. I’ll get you some water, and then you can tell me what happened. Because OW.” Summer lifted her eyebrows at the amount of blood. “That’s a nice trick you have there, though. Stands you in good stead.” Gods bless, he was rakishly handsome, with the blood on his face, and he clearly knew it.
She patted his shoulder, blocking some of the residual pain out for him before running off, red braid thumping against her back, to buy that water. Less several pounds and richer by two large bottles of water, she hurried back as fast as she could.