A Fateful Meeting

Wynn never knew the pain of hunger until that night, slumped in some back alley while rain pelted her torn, spread boots. The hunger sat like a parasite in her empty stomach, clawing away at the walls, and feasting on any energy she could muster. As she huddled on the cold, stone floor besides trash had already been picked clean, all she could do was wait. For food or for death, either one was fine.

The sun vanished behind a straw roof and with it the last bit of warmth. The few people that still roamed the once-busy market streets faded, not a single pair of eyes glancing down at her. She might as well have been a starved dog, too ugly for pity and odor too strong to approach. Wynn was truly alone. She was too tired to cry about the hunger or the filth on her body, or how tangled her long, brown hair was. Warm baths seemed like dreams rather than memories.

What point was there in surviving like this?

Just as she thought so a pair of footsteps echoed, and steadily grew nearer. In the silence, Wynn clung to the sound with the same intensity she clung to her empty sheath. Her muscles tensed in her crouched position, tighter and tighter with each new step. The stranger paused mere paces from her and her fingers twitched before she went entirely still.

She couldn’t bring herself to look up, in case the stranger decided to spit at her face the moment she did. Silly for her pride to remain. Hadn’t she accepted death if it came that night? Yet her trained body listened and waited. Ah, she thought to herself with a sudden epiphany. I must not want to die alone.

“Are you hurt?”

Wynn stared at the ground with wide eyes. The soft, deep voice was not what she expected. She must have imagined it, or the words weren’t meant for her at all. But that warmth was a beacon in the cold night. Pulled by it, she slowly lifted her head to the sound, shock and disbelief clear in her brown eyes.

Gentle, blue eyes as immense as the sea meet hers, crystal clear but concern lingered on his creased brow. Straight, black hair brushed his broad shoulders as he sat crouched in front of her. A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his lips eased the tension in Wynn’s body. This man, youthful but with maturity to his firm posture, exuded a serene beauty that immediately captured Wynn’s gaze.

Wynn’s dry lips parted but no words came out. She couldn’t find any and all she could do was stare. But her stomach growled and she curled into herself as her face heated up.

A husky chuckle resounded in her ears as clear as bells. Maybe it was the delirium from hunger but Wynn lost her breath for a second.

“Hungry, then?” he asked.

Another form of hunger woke within her, one for affection rather than food. When she lifted her head once again she was met with his large hand.

Wynn accepted him without a second thought. Callouses rubbed against hers. His secured grip pulled her to her feet. But the movement proved too much for Wynn. The world swayed beneath her feet and she lost her balance. Fearing she’d lose this one kindness, she reached for him. The scent of warm bread and grass filled her nose before she lost her sight and she succumbed to the darkness.