Time for Heroes.

"Can I help you with that?"

I had just managed to balance three boxes onto one knee and was trying to position myself so I could open the door with my elbow. Thanks to the voice, the boxes were now back on the floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Let me help"

I looked up, ready to give this stranger a piece of my mind, but he seemed to have picked the boxes up quicker than I dropped them.

"Where do you want them?"
"Uhmm, um, in there"

I pointed into the kitchen. My anger had passed and I was was quickly grateful for his help. In the time I had arrived until now it seemed like hardly any work had been done, yet it felt i'd been at it all day.

"You look like you could do with a break. Need any help?"

Looking up, I could see he had brought all the boxes inside and piled them into stacks of three. More than I'd done all day, was I really going that slow? I felt embarassed, what must he think of me.

"Thank you but I only have a few left, I should be able to manage"

"Don't worry about it. Tell you what, I'll grab the boxes from downstairs and you can make some coffee."

Before i could say anything he was already out the door.

"I'm Peter by the way" I heard him shout from the hallway.

Peter, I thought. Peter. Peter. Peter. I was beginning to like New York. I don't know who he was, but I was certainly happy he showed up. As I made coffee I kept thinking of my mystery helper. Tall, not too tall, but tall enough that you have to look up. Saying that though, I have to look up at everyone as i'm quite short. Dark brown hair, which fell over one side of his face. One part fell directly over his eye. I wondered if that annoyed him, having to keep moving it out of the way. His eyes were also dark, browny-black. They were beautiful. He was beautiful.

"So, coffee?" Peter walked into the room carrying a pile of boxes. He must me strong I though, I could barely manage one box. I stood and watched as he dropped the boxes
neatly one on top of the other. There was something about the way he moved, I couldn't quite put my finger on it.He brought in the last pile of boxes and made his way to the kitchen, as he walked I noticed he wasn't sweating, not one drop. As I handed him hiscoffee our hands brushed. Suprisingly his skin was soft, I assumed he'd have rough
hands, working mans hands.

"So. You are?"

Peters voice brought me out of my daydream.

"Huh?"
"I'm Peter. You are ..."
"Oh," I laughed nervously, "Lexi. I'm Lexi."
"Lexi"
"Yeah. Thanks for your help. I'd have been there all day."
"No worries."
"You live here then?..Well, of course you do, what else would you be doing here. Unless you were visiting someone..Uhm i'm rambling aren't I?"

Peter laughed.

"Yeah."
"Uhm.."
"Hey, you're not from round here are you?"

This time it was me who laughed.

"Nope. No i'm not"