His body heat on mine.
I can feel my blood pressure rise, time has just stopped and there is only me and him.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”
Oh. Right. Quentin and the stranger fell on the ground as he pulled him away from the stray gunshot, which hit a hoverbike rental instead.
The boy panicked, grabbing the stranger’s wrist and pointing to the nearest corner. “THIS WAY!” He shouted, running off and dragging the stranger with him.
As their enemy made his way pushing through the crowd, quickly gaining closer to them, Quentin needed a solution, some sort of diversion to end the chase and allow the pair to find an escape, maybe they could find an alleyway? Surely zey couldn’t handle running anymore than the large man, and as soon as he’d get them a taxi he’d steal someone’s car and chase after them. They couldn’t allow another person to be hu—
“DUCK!” The stranger grabbed the model by the neck and pushed his head down as another gunshot went passed them and hit another man in the back having a business call.
With no time to recollect himself, the stranger became the coachman and pulled Quentin by the arm, nearly ripping it off. Looking back at the injured man, Quentin felt less bad for him, green hair, pushing women away and asking for a male doctor, c’mon. What is this, the 2020’s?
“YOU— FUCKING IDIOT—“ Right! Quentin turned his head back, and fairly annoyed with his angry counterpart he pulled them into a building under construction, steering clear of being recognized by the construction robots and holding the stranger as close as possible so that he wouldn’t be recognized too. Unfortunately, he immediately became flustered trying to grab the stranger’s back and loosing his grip.
“Hello citizen! This area is under construction. Pl—“
“SHUT UP!”
The stranger punched the robot’s interface and ran through the back door, grabbing Quentin’s foot while he was in a daze from what just occurred. The model quickly grabbed the broken robot, trying to avoid concrete scars and the other robots.
Receiving directions, he could make out the person with the gun in the doorway and got up, slamming the door and using the construction bot’s arms to jam the door, slipping up a few times in the panic.
“Come with me!” He dragged the stranger once more, Lily’s shift wouldn’t end in a few more hours so she wouldn’t mind him using her car, right?
After the two suspiciously sped-walked back to the coffee shop, the worker from before grunted seeing him enter.
“Hey, what did I tell yo—“
“No time.” He quickly averted the barista, leaving the stranger at the door to talk to Lily, who was currently attempting latte art. “I need the keys.”
She looked up to speak to him, “They’re in the back, why?”
He gestured back to the blonde waiting for him at the door.
“No way— ARE YOU GONNA—“
“No— NO! We’re not doing anything.” Lily snickered as the students in the coffeeshop stared at the pair in judgement.
“. . .I’m going now.”
“Practice safety!”
Quentin scrunched up his face in frustration looking back at his friend, who was still giggling about the circumstances.
Obtaining the keys, he gestured to the stranger and got in Lily’s car, now feeling uncomfortable about holding his hand. He started up the car and asked it to take them back to his apartment, never bothering to learn how to drive himself.
As the car was in autodrive, Quentin used the opportunity to make small talk with the stranger.
“So— what’s your name?”
“Odysseus.” He was looking out the window with his arms crossed.
“Like the greek hero?” Quentin snickered. “Nerd.”
He could see Odysseus smile at the corner of his lip, turning his eyes to ask Quentin a question.
“What’s yours?”
“Quentin Nghiem. Self-employed painter, ex-model, I lived in Japan most of my life—“
“Japan? Hm, my family’s from there, well, used to. They moved during World War II and after a few generations my dad’s side moved back, then they moved back here to have my sister once the borders were closing and all that. Still have no clue what was going on there. . .”
“Oh you have a sister?”
“Yeah, you?”
“No, my dad died while my mom was having me.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Crap. Why did he say that? Everything’s awkward now, why’d he have to make things about himself? That was the worst quality of his friends in Japan, are they rubbing off on him? No. No way. He hadn’t seen them in years. Fuck, he’s doing it again!
“. . .my mom died a few years ago too.”
Quentin’s eyes lost their gloss, looking back at Odysseus. Perhaps they has more in common than they thought.
Back at home, Quentin changed his clothes, checking his body to see if there were any scars or secret wounds caused by the chase, those are always in movies.
Afterwards, he decided to check if Odysseus was the dead aunt of this story. Knocking on his room twice, which was really just a mattress and unopened luggage, his eyes aimed towards his bare back, full of their own battle stories and unfortunate fates.
“Why were you being chased, anyway?”
Odysseus was using the first aid kit Quentin brought in his luggage just in case, which left the suitcases completely ransacked and his clothes everywhere.
As the model cringed, Odysseus finished wrapping his torso, which was bleeding since before the chase. How did I not notice that?
“That guy was just part of a gang of punks who wanted to get back at my dad. It’s. . . complicated, you shouldn’t know anyway.”
“I just saved your life— are you really about to be stubborn right now?”
“Yeah, you’re a fucking stranger. My business is my— FUCK!” Odysseus rolled back onto the mattress after attempting to get up and yell at Quentin, messing with his wound.
Not wanting to cause anymore issues with the gun forged with glass, zey stepped out of the room as he regained his composure.
“I’ll buy a couch to sleep on, I guess.”
Speaking of which, he needed furniture.
Quentin opened up his phone and started scrounging around Ikea.
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