Caught in the Crossfire

The wet weather did nothing but dampen Wren's mood further. London was infamous for its dreary downpour and today was no exception. It had been raining continuously since the day before and if it wasn't for urgent matters on hand, Wren wouldn't step foot outside her warm and cozy flat.

Clutching her cheetah-print umbrella, Wren stared at the grey building in front of her and breathed out a loud sigh. The block of flats in this neighbourhood all had the same dull hue of peeling paint, graffiti covering the lower parts of the building (most of them with obscene graphics) and a selection of creative of vulgarities. It was a stark contrast to her private condominium.

The people in the neighbourhood weren't too friendly, either. In fact, most of them had given Wren the cold shoulder or an icy glare when she passed by, making her feel self-conscious in her leather boots and expensive clothes. She mentally scolded herself for dressing up to go a lower-class area that was known for it's poverty rates.

Wren noticed a couple of teenage boys standing by a beaten navy Volkswagen van, almost half a block away. They were eyeballing her while speaking in low voices to each other. She sensed that they were up to no good and picked up her pace. Wren was no damsel in distress; if the need arose, she would fight and most likely emerge victorious. She just wouldn't want to create a scene with one of her friends staying in the area. It wouldn't be nice to make a friend a target for thugs.

Once she reached the block she was looking for, she hurriedly shook her umbrella dry and ran up the rickety-looking staircase, two steps at a time. Wren figured that it was a waste of time to wait for the lift and become prey to the suspicious lads. She really didn't want all that training and exercise to come in handy.

She reached the fifth floor and ran towards the furthest door down the hallway, banging with her palms flat against it.

"Louis! Open up! It's me, Wren!"

She glanced over her shoulder to see if any of the boys were following her, and breathed a sigh of relief when the hallway was still quietly empty.

"What in the bloody hell?"

Wren turned around, startled out of her wits when she came face to face with Louis. He looked a wreck. One of his nostrils had a piece of tissue stuck in it and his eyes were red-rimmed, like he had been crying for the last several hours. His hair was sticking up in places, usual skinny jeans replaced with ratty old sweats. He was grasping a woollen blanket around himself like a lifeline as he stared at her.

Wren could only gape at the sick lad. "Did you decide to have a makeover? Because you sure look like shit."

That made Louis react. He walked inside and then proceeded to try slam the door in Wren's face. The obnoxious girl however, managed to stick a foot in the doorway, stopping Louis from closing it completely. Wren mentally thanked her durable boots.

"Naff off, Wren! I don't need you telling me I look like crap!" Louis yelled hoarsely from the other side of the door.

"Look, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, alright? It just came out! I need to talk to you!" Wren tried to nudge her way in, but Louis was adamantly holding fast. He finally reached an arm out and gave Wren a hard shove on her shoulder, but Wren kept her footing. Feeling too weak to keep up with their childish games, Louis admitted defeat before opening the door wide to let Wren in.

Wren could size-up the whole flat in seconds. It was a dingy hole, with no bedrooms; just a kitchen, bathroom and a living room. She had to admit that she was not a neat person, but Louis was much worse than her. It seemed like the lad had emptied his entire wardrobe on the floor of his living room; there were clothes strewn about almost everywhere. Wren made out where the sofa was because that was the only piece of furniture in the living room which was not covered with any clothes.

"You wanted to come in, so there you have it," Louis said, his voice cracking. He shut the door behind him and trudged to the maroon sofa before falling into it.

"What do you want?" he continued, glaring at Wren, arms crossed underneath the blanket.

Wren stared at the disheveled boy, feeling a little annoyed and a lot sympathetic. She breathed out a soft sigh and ran a hand through her hair, contemplating what to say next.

"Are you ill?" she asked meekly, cringing at the ridiculousness of the question.

Louis grunted in reply and pulled the tissue out from his nose, throwing it in the half full wastepaper basket, and then reached over to the box of kleenex by the sofa's side and took out another handful.

Wren was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do or where to start. She found herself eventually walking to the kitchen and rummaging through the cupboards for tea. She was surprised to find the kitchen was neat and orderly in comparison.

"What are you doing back there?" Louis' voice drifted from the living room.

"I'm making tea! Nothing beats a hot cup of tea when you're ill," she shouted back. "My dad usually makes me tea if I'm not feeling well."

Wren busied herself and when she was done, she carefully took the hot cups of tea into the living room.

"Here you go." Wren handed a cup to Louis. She was looking around for a place to sit when the lad shifted, making space on the sofa. He gave her a tiny smile and patted the empty space beside him.

Once they were both snuggled on the sofa, they sipped their tea in comfortable silence. An air of calm surrounded them, different than it had been half an hour ago.

Louis was the first to break the silence. "Thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome."

An awkward pause followed and Wren got up to take the empty cup from Louis. As she was about to head over to the kitchen she felt her hand being tugged. She turned around and saw Louis staring at her with his big, ocean-blue eyes.

"Stay a little longer with me?" he asked in a whisper.

Wren felt her stomach clench and she suddenly wanted to get the hell out of there. Fast. Instead, she nodded shyly and landed back on the sofa.

Wren cleared her throat. She had to stay focused on why she was there in the first place.

"You did great the other day. By containing that fire, you saved those who were still trapped in there."

"You helped too," Louis reminded her softly. "I - I couldn't do this by myself."

Wren couldn't help but blush, her cheeks heating uncomfortably. "I guess. Too bad we were camera shy." Both of them had fled the scene before anyone could recognise them.

"We make good partners, eh?"

Wren turned around and stared at him confusedly.

"Wh-what did you just say?" she sputtered.

The lad simply gave her a wide grin in response.