The sun had just begun to set, painting the flowing river with golden colours. It was quiet, but all that broke the silence was the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional sound of birds.
A woman stood at the riverbank, her long hair flowing down her back. She had come here to wash herself, and find some peace in the cool water. This spot was her sanctuary, a place to escape her worries and just be one with nature.
She dipped her hands into the river, cleaning her body tenderly, then decided to dive in for a swim. Just as she was about to finish, something caught her eye, a shadow, in the distance among the rocks. Curiosity pulled her closer, her steps slow and cautious, until she saw him.
Gabriel.
He was lying on the ground, face down in the dirt. His clothes were torn, his body battered, and there was blood staining the ground beneath him. She knelt beside him, her heart beating fast as she gently turned him onto his back. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was silent.
For a moment, she just stared at him, trying to process what she was seeing. Who was this man? And how had he ended up here, in such a state?
Her fingers brushed his forehead, she noticed the bleeding head wound, he had hit his head on the rocks and she saw a gun shot injury on his side. She hesitated, but only for a second. There was no time to waste. She had to help him.
With careful hands, she cleaned his face, wiping away the dirt and blood, her touch gentle but firm. His face was handsome, though marred by pain and exhaustion. Her instincts told her to act quickly—there was a chance he could still be saved.
She reached for her water flask, tilting it to his lips and urging him to drink. He didn't respond at first, but then he parted his lips slightly, and the cool water trickled into his mouth. She watched carefully, ensuring he swallowed before taking the flask away.
Her eyes looked to the side, scanning the area. There was no sign of anyone around, he was alone, left to die and some how, by sheer fate, she'd found him.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted him, carefully pulling him into her arms. He was heavier than she expected, but she was strong from years of living off the land. She carried him back to her small cottage, hidden in the trees, a place she had built for moments like this, a sanctuary, away from the chaos of the world.
For the next several days, the woman tended to Gabriel's wounds. She stitched up his wounds, cleaned the bullet hole on his side, and tended to his bruises and cuts with the tender care of someone who had seen her share of pain. Her cottage was warm and quiet, filled with the scent of herbs and medicine.
She never asked herself why she was doing this, why she had chosen to help this stranger. It was just in her nature, a deep-seated compassion that couldn't be ignored. Even unconscious, something about him drew her in. Maybe it was his quiet strength, or maybe it was just fate that had led her to him. She didn't know. But as she worked on him, she couldn't shake the feeling that their paths had crossed for a reason.
His body was strong, his muscles well shaped, but he had been through hell. The woman worked tirelessly, carefully removing the bullet, cleaning the wound, and stitching him back together with precision. Her hands never made a mistake, even as her mind wandered about his story, what had brought him to this place. Had he been running from something? Or had he simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time?
The days passed, and gradually, Gabriel began to stir. His eyelids shaky, and he groaned softly, his body aching to the pain that still lingered. She was at his side immediately, her hand on his shoulder, gently bringing him back to consciousness.
When his eyes finally opened, they were cloudy. He blinked several times, struggling to adjust to the light and the unfamiliar surroundings. His gaze wandered around the room, confusion showed on his face.
"Where… where am I?" He asked in a hoarse whisper.
"You're safe. You've been hurt. I found you by the river." She replied, her tone reassuring
He blinked again, trying to make sense of her words. "I… don't remember. I don't remember anything."
She suddenly realized. The memory loss wasn't surprising. His injuries had been severe, and the trauma from losing so much blood could easily have caused him to forget everything. But what worried her more was the blank look in his eyes. He seemed lost, not just physically but mentally, as though a part of him had been wiped away completely.
"Don't worry," she reassured him softly, offering him a glass of water. "You're not alone. You're safe here, and we'll figure this out together."
He drank the water slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he held the glass. "Who… are you?" he asked, his voice still weak.
She smiled gently, "I'm just someone who helped you when you needed it. I don't know who you are either, but we'll figure it out."
Gabriel looked at her, his mind trying to hold onto something, anything, that would tell him who he was. But there was nothing. No memories. No sense of identity. Just emptiness.
"Do you have a name?" she asked, her voice soft. "Anything you remember?"
He stared at her, and for a long time, there was nothing but silence.
The woman smiled, "get some rest. We'll figure it out. One step at a time."
As the days passed, Gabriel's condition improved, but his memory remained a blank slate. And as much as she tried to piece together the fragments of his past, she could feel that something dark and dangerous was just beneath the surface. But for now, all she could do was offer him her care and hope that, in time, his memory would return.
But even as she tended to him, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this man than met the eye and that the storm that had brought him to her doorstep was far from over.