Author's Notes:

This is not really the sort of thing I normally do and I imagine it's turned out quite badly. But I was bored, and so it happened. Who knows.

Conceptually it was inspired by this thing right here. I liked the idea so much I kinda wanted to try my own spin. In all probability I've made a huge mistake but, you know. Nothing ventured, eh?

Another exciting night at home on my own. I’d even changed the bed. Thrilling stuff.

I didn’t mind. I actually rather like the days off I have when I don’t even leave the flat. Sure I feel like a hermit and the sun makes me wince after a while but it means I don’t have to talk to anyone and no-one looks at me funny when I talk to myself. That and I got some chores done so I could at least lie to myself about it having been a productive day.

All in all, things could have been much worse.

As far as days to be inside went it was pretty good, too. It had been raining on and off since before I woke up and it had only got more unpleasant as the day had gone on. When I got started on my dinner it had taken a turn for the torrential and was bucketing it down in sheets. I looked up from stirring my saucepan of beans and through the kitchen window, staring at what amounted to basically a wall of water outside. It was ridiculous. I thought I’d left that sort of weather back at home.

Something on the street caught my eye though. Movement that had nothing to do with the weather. A burst of colour. Don’t ask me what colour, I couldn’t tell you. Bright though. Yellow-y. Orange, maybe?

It was someone moving along the street, although the downpour made it hard to quite make out. Squinting and leaning forward I peered out and saw it was a girl. Maybe a year or two younger than me, hard to be sure. She looked absolutely, crushingly miserable on top of being soaked to the bone. This was obvious even with the rain.

It was quite a surreal sight, actually. This horrible, grey street and this brightly coloured, rather attractive girl dragging herself along like she didn’t have a clue where she was going or even where she might want to go. There wasn’t another soul in sight, either. Just her. The sound of the toast popping up behind me really set the whole scene off, at least for me. Really underlined things.

Only when she turned in my direction did I realise that I’d just been out-and-out staring at this girl for a good thirty seconds or more. Which was just plain rude. I made to look away.

But it was too late. The rain slackened off just enough and just at the right time to clear the air between us. She locked eyes with me. She’d seen that I’d seen her. That limited my already limited options. Curses. Either I lower the blinds immediately and forget it ever happened - while secretly living forever with the shame of being a completely callous bastard - or else I, uh…

What? What do I do? Just go out and say hello?

I guess it’d be a start.

Sighing, I turned the heat off on the hob, moved the saucepan to the back and headed to the front door. She must have figured I was abandoning her because once I’d opened it she was already halfway gone.

“Hey!” I called out. Her head turned, eyes big - worried, scared, hurt. All bad things. This was someone who wasn’t having the best day. I waved.

“Nice weather for it! You okay?”

She looked like she might bolt at any moment. That would take her off and into the night and stop her from being my problem but the thought didn’t make me especially happy. I kind of just wanted her safe and dry, if only for now until she could at least go when it wasn’t raining. I wasn’t sure how to approach the situation.

“You wanna, uh, come in for a minute? Just until it stops raining? Or not, you know. You just look - you just look a bit miserable!”

I was aware that I was acting like a lunatic. I imagined half the street was hearing me and they probably thought I was a lunatic, too. From the look the girl was giving me she was thinking the same thing. I began to feel that I had perhaps taken the wrong approach.

“I mean, don’t feel obliged. Just thought I’d offer…” I said with mounting sheepishness, closing the door even as I spoke. I stopped though when I noticed she’d taken a single, tentative step back towards me. Then another. Then another. Pretty soon she was all the way back to the flat and stepping up inside.

She passed quietly into my home and I shut the front door behind her.

In the hallway, with the door closed, everything was much darker all of a sudden. I could hear her dripping to the floor, heard her sniffle and watched her wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. Whatever makeup she’d had on prior to the poor weather was left in streaks all down her face. At least I assumed that’s what that was. An educated guess on my part.

She wasn’t looking at me.

I really didn’t know where to go from there so took a stab in the dark.

“Do you want...a shower?” I ventured.

I had tried to think of what I’d want if I was waterlogged and had just been invited into some random guy’s house. Personally I would want to get warm, then dry, then warm again. In that order. This seemed to be the proper answer, too. While she kept her head down and still didn’t look me in the eye she nodded.

“Alright, okay. It’s just down there, first on the left, hmm? You just - you know how to work a shower, I won’t tell you. Will get you a towel though, hang on.”

I made a dash to my bedroom (where they lived) and was back in moments with a clean towel. I imagined she wouldn’t relish the opportunity to use mine. She took it without a word but did nothing else. It took me a second or two to realise that I was, in fact, blocking the corridor and standing in her way.

“Ah, sorry,” I said, stepping back and allowing her - silently - to shuffle into the bathroom. The door abruptly locked. Shrugging I went to go and have a sit down on my sofa, for want of anything better to do. My situation was something I was having a bit of difficulty wrapping my head around. Was I doing it right? Was I meant to be doing it at all? Was this going to end horribly? I had no precedent for any of this.

I did rather hope she was alright though. Just on a base level of being concerned about another person. Someone could catch their death in weather like this.

She was a good way into her shower when the thought hit me that when she got out and dried she wouldn’t actually have anything to wear. She’d come in with only the clothes on her back and those clothes were completely sodden. She couldn’t very well put them back on again. It would kind of defeat the point. This had only just hit me.

“Bugger,” I said to myself before heading back to my room to look for something appropriate. I had a good foot or more of height on the girl for starters and my tastes ran very much towards the jeans and black t-shirts end of the spectrum, so my options were limited. Still, better than nothing and a whole lot better than putting wet clothes back on again. I grabbed the largest shirt I could find to be on the safe side and a pair of jogging bottoms because high-fashion was not the aim here.

With these in hand I moved back down to the bathroom door and knocked quietly. The water had stopped by this point and I listened for a response but response came there none. I even pressed my ear up to the wood and cupped my hand and everything. It sounded a lot like someone had just stopped everything they had been doing a second ago. Total silence.

“I’m just leaving some clothes outside the door for when you’re done. I’ll be somewhere else when you grab them so don’t worry,” I said, head still pressed to the door. The silence continued for another beat or two.

“Okay,” I heard her say.

“It’s probably not your style but I figured it’d be better than being naked,” I said, in a misguided attempt to lighten the mood. I hoped she could tell I wasn’t being one-hundred percent serious but it’s hard to tell through a door. There passed a few moments of utterly agonising silence where I worried I’d put my foot in it.

“Okay,” she said again, eventually. I breathed a sigh of relief and sloped back off to the kitchen to resume dinner, which I had all-but forgotten about until that moment. The beans needed reheating and the toast was now stone-cold but worse things had happened. I’m a grown-ass man and making baked beans hot again was well within my abilities. Once that was done I took the meal back to the main room so I could sit down again.

I was set to start when I paused, frowning. The place was a mess. Not awful, but untidy enough to be the sort of place a stranger might feel unwelcome. That was one of the chores I had had put on my list for today but had eventually shrugged off as unimportant. More fool me.

With a grunt I pushed back to my feet and spent a minute or so doing circuits of the room and putting things back to where they should be. Everything looked much better before too long and I sat back down. Good work, me.

A little bit confused why I cared at all what some random girl I’d likely never see again after tomorrow thought about where I lived. The idea had just come to me suddenly. I’d sort of remembered the look in her eyes. Something about it. Oddly compelling. Just so very, very sad. Who knew guilt could have such an effect on me?

Or maybe I was just being nice. Probably not worth thinking about too much.

While I was wasting time sitting staring into space and worrying about things like that, something moved in the corner of my eye and I snapped up to look. There she swayed in the doorframe, damp hair hanging almost all the way down to her legs. Casting wary glances up to me she moved into the room.

Keeping a fair distance from me - understandably! Have you seen me? - she perched delicately on the very edge of the sofa, hands in her lap. She did look a little ridiculous in my clothes as they basically swallowed her, but I’ve always liked a girl in a band-shirt so it wasn’t all bad. Not that that should have been the first thing to mind. It was just nice seeing her less miserable, even by a fraction.

“Feeling better?” I asked. She nodded, the drier portions of her hair bouncing. Even half-damp it was starting to go enormously poofy. I could only imagine what it must have been like normally. Big, presumably.

Her eyes strayed to the still-steaming plate sitting on the coffee table. My beans on toast. I knew that look. The look of confusion I’d seen on everyone here’s face when they learnt about beans on toast, mixed with the intense hunger only someone soaked to the skin and cold from wandering in the rain for hours could manage.

“You can have that, if you like. I’m not hungry,” I said.

This was amazingly transparent of me. Not only was it laughable to claim to not be hungry when the dinner you’ve just made for yourself is mere feet away from you but my stomach also chose that exact moment to grumble loud enough for me to actually feel it. Betrayed by my own internals. She gave me a sideways look.

“By which I mean I can always make myself something else. You go ahead,” I said, leaning forward and nudging the plate across until it sat in front of her. Cutlery too.

“Are you sure?” She asked, though she’d already pulled the plate onto her lap by the time the question was out of her mouth. I’d barely finished nodding before she was halfway through the first bite. Someone was hungry.

It’s never nice having someone watch you eat so I did my best not to, but the rate she wolfed it down was alarming. She finished the whole thing in less time than it had taken the toast to toast and looked for a good second or so that she might actually start licking the plate. She didn’t though, instead setting it back down almost a bit embarrassed and pushing it back towards me.

There was tomato sauce smeared around the outside of her mouth and she absent-mindedly wiped it off with the back of her hand. That this only made her messy again didn’t seem to concern her much, or even occur to her. Her attention still seemed on the plate though, and I could work out why.

“Would you like some more?” I asked. She nodded. Nodding seemed to be her primary method of communication at this point. I assumed she’d had a bad day, so I could forgive her that. Taking the plate I stood and moved to leave, turning back before I left the room completely.

“You want something different or - ?”

“That was fine,” she said. Nodding and three-word sentences seemed to be all I was getting. I shrugged and set off to make beans and toast round two, this time with enough for both of us.

When I returned - plates in hand - I found her reading the back of the DVD case I’d left by the television. Something I’d started watching earlier before scolding myself into actually getting something done with my day.

What types of films I liked varied, though they typically included things most people would likely find rather dull. Unless they were huge nerds, like me. Call me quick to judge people but - from what I could assume and guess about this girl - I didn’t think Silent Running would have been her first choice for the evening’s entertainment. I could have been wrong, of course, but that was just my gut feeling.

“That work for you? Can watch something else if you want. Or do anything else, really. Up to you,” I said, setting the food down.. She put the case back with extreme delicacy and retreated to her end of the sofa, though I notice she wasn’t balancing on the very edge of it anymore and was actually sitting on it properly now.

“It’s fine,” she said.

Well, I wanted to watch it so I wasn’t going to ask twice. She could always tap out later if it became too much for her to bear. Getting up to fuss around with on buttons and remotes I sank into the sofa and got things going. Meanwhile, she devoured her food just as quickly as she did the first time.

There was a brief interlude where I paused things to take both plates back to the kitchen and also brought back a blanket I just happened to own which she draped over herself and seemed to appreciate. Other than that, that was it.

Her disinterest in the film was palpable but she didn’t complain about it. Every so often I could see her turning to looking at me but I didn’t want to make it an issue. She kept yawning, too. That was understandable. Towards the end of the runtime she couldn’t even pretend not to be falling asleep anymore and was starting to nod off where she sat, head bobbing and eyes closing as the weight of the day caught up with her. She was in serious risk of curling up beneath the blanket and dozing right there. That probably wouldn’t be good.

I paused the film. Again.

“Would you like to go to bed?” I asked. She, bleary-eyed and blinking dazedly at me, nodded again. Though this was more like her head dipping to her chest and snapping back again. I stood, and she followed suit after a mild delay, swaying in place.

“Alright. Now this is, ah, the first time I’ve ever had anyone in off the street and into my home but as you’re a guest you can use my bed. It’s just for tonight, after all. It’s all changed so don’t worry,” I said. She was so tired she didn’t even protest. I gestured for the door.

“It’s down the end. After you.”

Off she went with me behind. She very nearly opened up the utility cupboard but I coughed lightly and she got the idea, veering off and going the right way and ending up in the right room. I flicked the light on for her, as she missed the switch.

As covertly as I could I cast a quick eye around to make sure there wasn’t anything especially tempting to run off with. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her or anything, it was more just a hardwired response from having someone I’d never met before hanging around my home. There was barely anything valuable around the place anyway and - looking at her again - she looked so exhausted she’d have trouble even just walking out the front door, let alone robbing me blind.

Besides, by the time I’d done my paranoid check she’d already climbed into the bed. Cocooned beneath the covers she tossed from one side to the other as she got comfortable, rested for a moment and then propped herself up. She actually looked at me properly for what might have been the first time since she came through the front door.

“Do you have another towel?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah,” I said, fetching one from where they lived. I didn’t know why she wanted one, but who am I to question someone who wants a towel? Handing it over she took it and wrapped the pillows in it before settling her head down again. I watched this far too much fascination, because it was something I hadn’t even considered before.

One eye opened and she peered up at me, snapping me back to the moment.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, goodnight. You need anything I’ll just be down the way, okay?”I said. She nodded and curled deeper into the covers, practically disappearing beneath the duvet. I turned the light off, shut the door and left her to her own devices.

Passing the bathroom I doubled back. She’d left her clothes in a damp, mouldering heap on the tiled floor where they sat in a puddle looking dejected and abandoned. On the one hand it was sort of presumptuous to manhandle someone’s clothing without permission. On the other, it would be disheartening to wake up and find that the person who’d fed you and given you someplace to sleep (his own bed, no less) had drawn the line at making sure your clothes were dry.

Grunting, I picked up the heap, hoping against hope I hadn’t somehow inadvertently stuck my hand into the underwear I’d caught a glimpse of lurking around in there. I’d give them a quick wash and hang them out. That sounded like a plan to me. Maybe they’d be ready by tomorrow, maybe they wouldn’t. Leaving the washing machine gurgling to itself in the kitchen I returned to the sofa. My base of operations, it seemed.

I just needed a second to get all my ducks in a row. This wasn’t such a big deal. I was making all of this far too complicated.

It was a bit odd, yes, but really it wasn’t that complex. Just someone in need. She was washed and full of food and was now asleep. Whoever she was. When morning rolled around she would wake up, we could have a pleasant conversation to make sure everything was alright and she could go. Or she could just go. I assumed she would just want to go. Easy. Nothing worth worrying about. Just a few loose ends tomorrow, if that.

There was a problem though. I had work tomorrow. I would probably not be around to deal with whatever needed dealing with. She would be around on her own if she did not leave. I could always have kicked her out and I did seriously consider it but only for a tiny, fleeting moment. I doubted I had it in me. More fool me. So back to square one with that.

A part of me considered maybe calling in sick but the rest of me reacted with horror. I knew for a fact no-one would be there to cover for me and I had a baseline revulsion for missing work for any reason whatsoever in the first place. Not unless I was dying, and even then I would at least try to go in for a bit, just so someone else wasn’t left in the lurch. It wasn’t an option. I rubbed my face and wracked my brains.

In life, it’s generally not a good idea to leave someone in your home that you do not know. It didn’t matter how run-down or pathetic they looked. People aren’t to be trusted easily. Be pleasant, be polite but be prepared - that’s what they always told me. But that didn’t help. My situation was still tricky.

I could always wait and politely ask her to leave when I also had to leave the house. It was a step above simply kicking her out, at least. But there was no guarantee that she’d even be awake by then. That was assuming she even had anywhere to go afterwards. And that she’d agree in the first place. People who walk around in the pouring rain don’t usually do it when they have somewhere better they can be.

Then an idea struck me. Out of the blue. I did have an option. Bringing someone in to watch the stranger for me. Genius! Why didn’t I think of that?

Oh. Wait.

There was an acquaintance of mine. A girl by the name of Sunset. Pleasant girl. Met her while she was working at the sandwich place just down from the bar I work at. Must have been a temporary thing because she isn’t there anymore. Hardly matters.

Point is she knows me and I know her, and she is - as said - rather nice. More to the point I actually have her number and she’s actually been round to mine enough times to remember where it is and what things she is and isn’t allowed to just walk off with.

Poor girl must have been desperate for companionship if she ended up with me as an acquaintance, mind. Most people would go out of their way to avoid that sort of thing. She’ll likely wise up sooner or later. For now though it serves my purposes. Certainly I trust her enough to keep an eye on things with me out at work. She owed me a favour anyway. He who pays for the pizza can come calling anytime, Sunset, as you shall find out!

After finding her in my contacts (which wasn’t hard, there aren’t many) and starting the call I was momentarily struck with worry that she might be asleep. It was getting on in the evening, after all, and she probably had a life. She answered after maybe the third ring though, so that was nice.

“Hi!” She said, brightly. Almost like she’d been waiting for a call.

“Hello, it’s me,” I said. She would have known this already what with modern phones and all, but it was a habit of mine by now. “Got a favour to ask you. You, uh, working tomorrow? Doing anything?” I asked, conscious enough to keep my voice down. This did not go unnoticed and her voice dropped to, a note of concern creeping into it.

“No. It’s Saturday tomorrow. You do know that, right? Why? What’s going on?” She asked. I really did lose track of time these days.

Before replying I cast an eye towards the door but saw no sign of lurking eavesdroppers. Backing up a little I quietly leaned out to check the corridor all the way up to my bedroom but, again, saw no-one. Pushing the door too I settled onto the sofa but still spoke as quietly as I could without going completely inaudible.

“Just wondering if you could house-sit for me. For a few hours.”

“What? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Just while I’m at work, then you can go.”

“You need something signed for?” She asked. I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head as she silently tried to work out what on earth I could be asking her to do this for.

“Good guess, actually. But no. You’ll never get it so I’ll just tell you: there’s a girl here,” I said. There was a pause. Everyone is always pausing when they talk to me. Maybe it’s me.

“...is this some kind of bragging call?”

“You’ve seriously misjudged the nature of our relationship if you think I’d call you up to brag about bedding someone. Or that I’d call anyone up about that. Or that I’d be so fortunate in the first place. No, it’s not like that. No idea who she is. Was just wandering outside in the rain looking like a drowned rat. Crying. Cold, hungry, alone - all that jazz. What was I supposed to do?” I asked.

I heard a sharp intake of breath that suggested I was about to be told at length what I was supposed to have done, only for Sunset to falter as she clearly realised she would have had no idea what to do in my place either. I mean really, what could you do in that situation? Other than ignore them, of course. Neither of us seemed to think that was an option. She sighed.

“Alright fine. I owe you anyway.”

“Thanks, Sunset. You’re a pal.”

There followed a brief but pertinent exchange of details regarding when she should come over. It wasn’t particularly interesting, but it was important. With that done I thanked her again and wished her goodnight. And that was that.

I made a mental note to maybe get her a little something sometime to say thank you properly. I hate buying gifts. It makes me sweat, but she was pulling my fat out of the fire on the this one so I figured I might as well. No idea what she might like, but that was a problem for the future, not now.

With that done I finished watching the film, because I wanted to. With that done, I started working out how I was going to get to sleep. The sofa would do, even if it was a little on the small side for someone of my size.

Anything duvet or pillow related was in my room, which was presently occupied with someone whose ability to sleep through interruptions was unknown to me. I wasn’t going to go blundering in half-cocked and wake her up. A prisoner in my own home, that’s me.

I had cushions enough already though, and the blanket I’d given my guest. It’d have to do. I’m a big boy, I can take a lacklustre night on the sofa every once in awhile. Pulling all of these things together I made something that looked more like a nest than a bed but which would definitely get the job done.

Once I’d had my own shower and washed up the girl’s clothes were done so I hung those up somewhere I thought they’d have a good chance of drying and the hunkered down beneath the blanket. It smelt a little of her. Or at least I thought it did, because I don’t think myself or anything I’ve interacted with has ever smelt like that on its own. It wasn’t unpleasant, just new. Sort of sweet.

I did my best not to think about it, rolled over and thought about trees in domes in space until I fell asleep.