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"Are you okay? You took a nasty fall," David asked the girl in the green sweatshirt. She looked dazed.
Narrowing his eyes, he appraised her condition. He was holding her upright, one hand on either side of her. She felt soft and warm in his arms.
"I uh, yeah, I guess... I think I need to sit down."
Concerned David eased her back down to the grass in a seated position. He placed a hand on the small of her back allowing her to lean against him. For some reason he didn't want to let go. The physical connection between them made him feel protective.
He looked at her slightly stunned. Some part of him was conscious that she was someone to cherish. It didn't make sense to feel that way about a stranger, he thought. She made him feel...almost...whole.
Welcoming the peace of the moment that settled over him, them, the astonishment of the protectiveness he felt succeeded by a profound comprehension of deep serenity.
He glanced at her face, there was a cut on her cheek.
"You're bleeding."
He pulled out a white monogrammed handkerchief, shook it open with one quick snap and started to wipe her face.
"Ouch, that stings."
Quickly he pulled his hand away, "Sorry... Here, you do it."
He handed the handkerchief to her, watching as she carefully pressed it against her cheek. He couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from her. She had long lashes, the bluest eyes and generous lips.
"I'm David... by the way... David Bowen," he said smiling, normally he avoided anything that caused feelings of insecurity, namely unusual situations with strangers like the one he was in now. He felt completely at ease with her and this deep sense of peace. There was something about her eyes, a fella could get lost in those eyes, he thought.
Staring into the wide cobalt pools he grew silent.
"Emily...Emily Wren," she reciprocated, staring back.