Stay With Me

Lucky Hamilton frowns at his phone as it rings loudly again showing the same caller ID, for the upteenth time.

Why did he keep meeting women who tried to ruin the fun?

He had enjoyed a short lived fling with the blond haired woman he had met at Rick’s party 3 weeks ago and while he had since moved on, she still seemed to be stuck on him.

With a sigh, Lucky decides to let the call go to voicemail. When it rings again, he decides to turn it off completely.

He tries reaching for his phone to shut it off when a movement catches his eyes; a car comes toward him at full speed.

Thinking quickly, he swerves to avoid the collision, but it's a little too late. The car slams into his, and even though he had managed to swerve half of his car out of the road, the impact is still sudden.

The side crash sends waves of shock through Lucky's body as his car comes to a screeching halt. He takes a moment to collect himself, then climbs out to inspect the damage.

Miraculously, he's unharmed, but the other car is in far worse shape.

He rushes over to the vehicle and tries to peer inside and he sights the small frame of a woman.

He tries to open the door, but it's jammed shut. Inside, the driver is unresponsive, slumped over the steering wheel. He pounds on the window, calling out, but there's no response.

Growing more frantic, Lucky dials 911 and explains the situation while he continues to try and pry open the door.

He searches desperately for something to break the glass and then he remembers his emergency hammer in his tool box on the trunk of his car.

He gets it out and with a quick, practiced motion, he smashes the glass, unlocks the door, and carefully pulls the unconscious woman from the wreckage.

She's petite and delicate, her body limp in his arms. He puts her on the floor and quickly checks her forehead for injuries. He finds only a small scratch. As he leans in closer to assess her condition, her eyelids flutter open.

He freezes as he meets her gaze. They’re deep, intense blue eyes that seem to pierce through him and for a moment, time seems to stand still between them.

Lucky Hamilton kneels beside the unconscious woman, gently cradling her face in his hands. "Hey," he says softly, his voice laced with concern. "Can you hear me? Stay with me, okay? Keep your eyes open."

Her eyelids flutter open again before they close once more.

Worried, Hamilton continues to speak to her, trying to coax her back to consciousness. "Come on, stay awake. You're going to be okay."

Her eyes flicker once more, and this time they stay open. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Good, good. What's your name?"

"Daniella," she murmurs softly.

"Daniella," he repeats, his voice soothing. "Nice to meet you, Daniella. Do you have a favorite thing? Something you love?"

She hesitates for a moment, as if trying to gather her thoughts. "Painting," she finally whispers.

"Painting," he echoes with a smile. "That's wonderful. Are you an artist?"

She nods faintly, her eyes struggling to stay open.

Hamilton notices her hesitation and decides to change the subject. "Where is your family, Daniella? Can I call them?"

"I have none," she replies quietly, her voice tinged with sadness.

His heart sinks at her answer, and he senses there's more to it than meets the eye. "No family?" he asks gently, trying to understand.

Her eyelids droop again, and he realizes she's slipping back into unconsciousness.

Before he can press further, the distant sound of police sirens reaches his ears.

Relief washes over him and he unconsciously mouths "Thank you,"

.