4. QuinnMature

I stood, paralysed, incapable of even shouting out in alarm. I couldn't believe my eyes: a flying person?

He stopped just in front of me and I was able to see him in the light behind me from the interior of my room.

Not a boy, a young man. A man who couldn't be any older than Daryl.

He looked to be sitting astride empty air. His thick brown hair, heavily shadowed under the night sky, was, of course, tousled, and the front hung out over his forehead like a cliff jutting out over the sea. His deep green eyes blazed with excitement, and I wouldn't have been surprised if sparks had flown out of them, created by their electric energy. He was tall and unrounded, the muscles in his arms and legs firm: built up to a fair extent, but not so that he was a grossly massive person.

He was extremely handsome - at least, in my opinion. It was actually slightly unusual for me to notice so much that he was gorgeous. I had always imagined the perfect man in terms of his personality. But I couldn't deny the attractiveness in his smooth, unlined brow, his strong cheekbones and his aura of self-control.

When he swung himself over the railings and winked at me in an ‘I know what you're thinking' kind of way, I felt faint rather than indignant and didn't at all want to slap him. I momentarily forgot the impossible method of his arrival.

"Sal," he said, with a friendly grin, in a velvety American accent.

"I - I'm sorry?" I asked, finally finding my voice. I was baffled: did he think my name was Sal?

His response was to give me the oddest look.

"Sal," he repeated, bewildered. "Greetings; good day; hello."

"Hey," I said, still bemused.

The young man looked mystified. Almost like he thought I was calling him ‘Hey'.

"Your tone of voice is confusing. And what have I done wrong?"

"What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. What is your name, young lady?"

"Well, you're forward," I said, amused, though secretly amazed that this handsome stranger wanted to know something about me.

His brow furrowed. "Well, that wasn't an answer." He sounded quite serious as he told me "And I'm allowed to be forward."

I stared at him, shocked by his statement.

"What?"

He looked ever so slightly cross.

"Look, do you really not understand me?"

I hesitated. "I - I get what you're saying," I replied "but it doesn't seem to make sense."

He sighed, the annoyance at me visible in his expression fading.

"Well, I suppose it's only sensible we don't totally understand each other."

"Oh, and why's that?" I asked, utterly mystified.

"Different countries have different cultures, different turns of phrase, etc," he replied, and he stated it so simply that I couldn't deny his logic. But I thought to myself ‘...An American wouldn't confuse me that much.' I didn't voice this, however and moved on to a different subject, discovering I had remembered the way he had seemed to just appear out of nowhere.

"How did you get here?"

The young man looked startled but he quickly recovered composure and replied "You haven't told me your name yet."

"Carina," I answered calmly. "What's yours?"

"Quinn," he told me, smiling. I liked his smile: it lit up his face and illuminated everything that was handsome about him.

"Well, Quinn," I said, his good humour infecting me and causing me to talk cheerily, "how did you get here?"

Quinn chuckled, like someone in on a massive secret.

"How do you think?"

I frowned in thought. According to my eyes, which must have been lying, he had flown here.

"Um, I don't know," I decided to say. "I think I was a bit confused or dazed or something."

He shrugged. "Maybe . Maybe not. I didn't get here in a very ... natural way. At least, ... you wouldn't think it was natural."

"Well, that's confusing," I said, vaguely wondering how on earth this conversation was happening.

He nodded. "It is rather. Well, can I tell you a secret, Carina? You must promise you won't laugh or think I'm insane. It takes ... quite the stretch of imagination."

His eyes had become unexpectedly intense. Those sparkling, dancing emeralds seemed to pour forth energy into my brain, as though he were hypnotising me or placing thoughts in my mind. I was extremely disconcerted but at the same time fascinated and eager to enter into the bizarre, complex world he belonged to.

"Yes," I whispered, simultaneously nervous and excited.

His voice became as intense as his gaze, causing me to swallow anxiously.

"Carina," he murmured, seeming to caress my name with his velvety tones, "I'm a magical being."

The End

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