You're My Sweetheart

He reached for her hand. She almost yanked her hand away. But she didn't. He held her hand. "I didn't mean to..." he trailed off.

He didn't know how to respond to this. She was being kind and caring towards him. Everyone else was cold, harsh, and controlling. He was relearning emotions. He was always trained to be the exact opposite of her.

She turned to look at him. She was fighting back tears. She hated crying in public. Especially in front of men. It just made things complicated.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong?" he asked. She scoffed. "I'm trying not to cry, that's what's wrong." A single tear fell.

She backhanded the tear. Using his right hand, he touched her face and turned it so he could look her in the eyes. "Are you crying because of me?" She heaved a sigh. "I'm always way too nice to people.

Some times I end up getting hurt in the process. It's how I was raised. To be nice, kind, caring, and loving. A southern lady. Not supposed to let others see me cry.

But some times it is inevitable." Another tear fell. He wiped it away. "I didn't mean to make you cry." His facial expression was soft.

She saw the hurt and worry in his eyes. She sniffed. Michael had a flashback to when he was younger. He was with his friend Steve. Steve's mother had just died of pneumonia.

Steve had just graduated high school. He had already lost his dad when his was younger. Michael knew what it was like to be an orphan. He was Steve's rock during the whole time. Always by his side.

Michael broke out of his reverie when he heard sniffling. He looked to see her looking at him. Streams of tears fell down her face. He frowned. "Why are you crying?"

She tilted her head at him. "Just watching you zone out. I see the hurt, pain, and worry in your eyes. My Mema Kay would say it's because I have a soft heart for those who are lost, struggling, or hurt. I never thought I'd stumble across you.

Badly dehydrated, but not enough to put you in a hospital. Lost, hungry, tired. But I did. And here you are." She sniffed some before reaching for a tissue.

She dabbed her eyes and nose. He ran his thumb over her cheek. She shivered at the touch. Her eyes looked away. "You never told me your name."

She hesitated before answering. "Lindsi. Lindsi Tesla." She finally looked at him. Again he didn't smile but it was along the lines. "Sounds European."

She shook her head. "Slavic," she said. He raised an eyebrow again. "But you don't look Slavic." She heaved a sigh.

"I'm adopted. I'm half Native American. Cherokee. I'm originally from Arizona. My parents died when I was seven.

My adoptive parents, Diana and Robert, adopted me after I turned nine. They have a son of their own, Zach. Diana couldn't bear any more children. She and Robert wanted at least one more. Zach has been my best friend since the day I came home.

He and I are five years apart. I'm about to turn twenty-eight. He just turned thirty-three." Michael was surprised to learn that she was adopted. But he had a feeling she was something different.

They sat in silence. He finished his soup, though it was cold. After he finished, he placed the empty bowl on the night stand. A little later, he fell asleep. She fell asleep beside him.

Both slept pleasantly well. That is until Michael started mumbling in his sleep. He started tossing and turning. He accidentally smacked her with his right arm. She bolted awake to see him thrashing.

He was having a nightmare. It broke her heart. "Michael," she said. She repeated his name and carefully shook him. "Michael, wake up," she said finally getting him awake.

He sat upright. "Sweetie, it was just a nightmare." He started crying. She pulled him into her. She held him and consoled him.