The dark

When her legs had regained some strength she stood shakily to peer through the spy glass in the door, checkint to see that the two police had really left. The hallway was full of shadows, making it hard to see in the darkness. Abigael's eyes squinted to slits as she flattened her head against the door to see if she could catch a glimpse of the flashlights the police were using. She rubbed her eyes from the strain but still waited a little longer to be doublely sure they had left before leaning back from the door and slowly inching her way towards the kitchen, trying not to bump into anything in the rapidly darkening light.

She remembered that there were some candles in one of the drawers somewhere and quickly set to rummaging around in the kitchen drawers. It was hard to see so she gave up on her eyes and ended up feeling the contents of the drawers. Her fingers brushed over the detergent and behind a pile of tea-towels and she eventually found herself half lying on the ground elbow deep in shelves before feeling the smooth waxy surface of her old disused set of red Christmas candles.

She pulled them out one by one and soon had a small pile on the floor by her knees. Finally, brushing a stray cobeeb from her shoulder she grabbed a set of matches and set to placing them around the apartment.

She smiled at the rosy fragrance slowly permeating the air as the quietly flickering flame danced around the wick, releasing the scent trapped in the softening wax. It wasn't as bright as electrical lights but there was a certain romantic ambience that she couldn't help but appreciate.

She skirted around the soggy carpet on her way around the house and closed the door to her bedroom, stemming the flow of cold wind and rain blowing through the broken window and threatening her newly lit candles. She would have to call someone to fix that tomorrow.

Placing the rest of the candles back on the kitchen bench she grabbed two for the bathroom and made sure to drop a tea-towel or two on the wet patch on the carpet in the hallway as she passed. She paused with her hand on the door handle to the bathroom. She couldn't put it off any more. What should she do now? She had successfully hoodwinked the police, but for what purpose? More to the point, she didn't have any way to treat someone who was electrocuted, she didn't even have a way to get him to hospital, not that he would be likely to go considering his reaction to the police earlier.

[Forget it] she told herself, once they managed to call this brother of his, he would go away and she could pretend like none of this had even happened. She could even make them pay for her window. A glimmer sparked in her eye as she silently plotted the best way to blackmail... no, get compensation from the man who ruined her day off.

She resolutely opened the bathroom door and peered through to the shower. The shower curtain was still closed but she could see the silhouette of the man hunched into all ball on the ground. Quietly padding over she found she was less nervous than before, which gave her the courage to pull the shower curtain open slightly, still partially hiding behind it as she stared at the man.

He was still lying in the same position she had left him, his limbs lying akimbo, eyes closed and not moving. He must have fallen unconcious and he didn't respond when she called to him. Even when she plucked up the courage to poke and pinch him on the arm a few times he didn't respond.

Abigael's imagination started going wild as she began to consider what would happen if he actually died here, would she go to jail? She quickly became flustered at the thought and rushed to push him on his back. Pulling his raggedy shirt out of the way she pressed her head against his chest. The sound of his heart beating strongly caused her to breathe a sigh of relief and she closed her eyes for a moment to tell all of her rushing thoughts to calm down.

Opening her eyes again she realised how cold the man's skin was. He had been soaked in rain water the for who known how long and hadn't even been wearing a jacket. Concerned, she touched his forehead with the back of her hand to make sure he didn't have a temperature on top of everything else, but he seemed to be fine.

Abigael suddenly realised what she was doing and pulled her hand back suddenly. Her cheeks flushed red as she recalled herself ripping aside his shirt and laying her head on the bare skin of his chest. [It was for his health, for health!] she told herself sternly. Nevertheless, she buttoned his shirt back together and moved herself back a few centimetres.

Abigael shook her head to dispel any stray thoughts and reached for her phone. A frustrated groan was all that followed as she remembered it was still lying broken on the floor near the kitchen. What to do now? Even the phone she had retrieved from the man's pocket was probably cooked from the electrical shock of the lightning strike earlier.

There was a phone in the lobby downstairs, she remembered, but it was supposed to only be used in case of emergencies. [Well, this is an emergency. My house was attacked by lightning and, more importantly, my phone is dead. I'm sure it'll be fine, it's not like anyone checks the phone there anyway.] Having made a decision she nodded her head in satisfaction, before being suddenly reminded of the lack of electricity. That phone was a landline.

She sighed loudly in frustration, rolling her eyes at the world, and decided she would just have to wait until tomorrow. Unless she dared to brave the gossips and go next door.

She decided she didn't dare. Tomorrow it was. Now the only problem left to solve was what to do with this guy until someone arrived to take him away.

A wrinkle creased her brow as she frowned at the man at the bottom of the shower. She couldn't just leave him like this, injured and thrown in the corner to be forgotten. She also wanted to use this shower, so he definitely needed to be moved. Doing a quick mental stocktake of her house she immediately discounted her bedroom and eventually decided she would move her two seater kitchen table out of the way and make a little nest-bed thing on the floor with her spare deuvet. It was better than the shower at least. It wasn't like she could let him have her bed, which was currently covered in glass and exposed to the elements and, well, the couch, she needed that for herself.

She rolled her sleeves up and grabbed a spare scrunchy from the cabinet above the sink. Once she had made a decision she would get it done straight away, that was just the way she was. Tying her long hair into a ponytail she set to work moving the table and chairs and setting out the douvet on the ground. She even found an old lumpy pillow she had forgotten about, stashed away at the back of a cupboard in the laundry.

She wasn't strong enough to pick the man up so the only way she could move him was to drag him across the floor. She sent a silent apology to the injured man before grabbing him by the hands and pulling him out of the bathroom. She may have accidentally knocked his head on the doorframe as she passed and she was pretty sure there was a burn on his leg that wouldn't feel very nice being pulled across the carpet. But tucking him into the makeshift bed on the ground she rationalised that at least it was better than nothing. She looked down at her handwork, hands on her hips and with a satisfied smile on her face. The man's still damp hair was wrapped in a towel and she had placed a bottle of water nearby in case he woke up and felt thirsty. She wasn't brave enough to remove his wet clothes so she had compromised by placed a portable electric heater nearby to help him keep warm. Unfortunately, the electricity still wasn't on so it was less than useless for now, but it was the thought that counts right?

Feeling accomplished with what she had achieved Abigael decided she deserved a Champaign before going to bed... or rather, to the couch.

After braving the wild winds in her bedroom to get changed into some pyjamas, she poured herself a lovely glass of bubbly from the opened bottle in her fridge.

The flickering candlelight created patterns of dark and light across her body as she leaned on the bench. The outline of her body shifting alluring through the thin fabric of her pyjamas. Sipping from her flute glass occasionally, her eyes were half closed in pleasure as she felt the bubbly liquid slide over her tounge and down her throat. A pink blush slowly rose on her cheeks as she breathed in the sweet candle scent that filled the air, her lips shaping the outline of a soft smile.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of light blue eyes were watching silently.