Morana

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I bolted into a sitting position and stared into the eyes of the man from the accident. The anger I had seen then was even clearer now. I could feel it wrap around me like burning charcoal. But I also couldn't help my frustration that flared up.

"I could ask you the same thing," I snorted at him.

Momentarily, he seemed lost for words. The anger somewhat lessened before becoming even stronger. During that one second, that it took for him to compose himself, I did something that I hadn't had the opportunity to do yet. I let myself take in the whole appearance of this mystery man.

I guessed most people would say he looked kind of ordinary. He seemed to be Latino, with his slightly darker skin, brown eyes, and dark hair. His build wasn't anything special. Average height, muscular but not in an "in your face" sort of way.

But I couldn't help but find him alluring. His hair was at the length that I wondered if he could put it up in a ponytail or not. It also made me think about how I would want to grab a fistful of it while kissing him fiercely on those soft-looking lips of his. And to feel his body, I just knew there would be the hardness of muscles but also some softness, which would only make it all the more pleasing to hold on to him.

He also held himself with a certain confidence, but not the type I hated that came simply from a guy who knew he was attractive. No, this confidence was much purer than that. He simply knew who he was and felt secure in that knowledge.

And then his eyes... I couldn't put my finger on what it was about his eyes, but they were the most beautiful brown I'd ever seen. I knew that the color reminded me of something, but I just couldn't figure it out. But it wasn't a boring, ordinary brown. It was a brown that made me smile.

"Really? You have the guts to be sassy right now?" he shot back at me, which snapped me out of my marveling of his appearance. "You know you broke all of the fundamental rules! Do you want to bring back the witch hunts? Because that's what that type of careless use of magic will result in. Did it even cross your mind to cover your tracks? Doubt that. You're lucky I was there to modify everyone's memories."

"What did you say?" I asked, feeling my jaw drop slightly as my insides turned cold.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid? Fucking regretting draining myself to save your sorry witch ass."

"Seriously. I don't know what you are talking about. What do you mean by magic and witches?" My voice got louder and louder and also shriller. Someone would probably soon hear and come into our bizarre conversation, but I couldn't help it. He, however, just rolled his eyes at my comment.

"What? Is that gonna be your way out of this situation? Claim that you know nothing about being a witch and that you didn't use magic to save your life?"

"But I know nothing about being a witch!" I yelled at him and finally, he seemed to understand and believe me, at least somewhat. His anger disappeared, to be replaced by confusion.

"You don't know that you're a witch?" he asked slowly.

"No. Or like, okay yes, I know something is wrong with me. I know I'm not normal. I used to wish I would find Narnia or something."

"How?" he asked, his mouth now slightly opened and eyes wide. "How can't you know? Didn't your parents..."

"They abandoned me when I was three months old." My eyes fell on the sheets of the bed.

"Oh... I... I'm sorry."

All anger was now completely out of him. Instead, there was sorrow on his face when I moved my eyes back to him. Then he looked away from me and to the door, then down at a watch on his wrist, before looking back at me. Now there was a fiery determination on his face.

"We can talk more and I can explain things to you. But we can't do it here. I made it so that the doctors think you died and though no one can hear us, someone might come in here at any point."

"They think I'm dead?" I asked in utter disbelief.

"You're a Jane Doe. And since there won't be a corpse for them to check later, they won't find out who you actually are."

I couldn't help the snort that came out.

"What?" he frowned at me.

"A missing corpse won't be suspicious at all," I pointed out.

"Oh, excuse me that my help isn't up to your standard," he jeered before adding in a softer tone, "The headline that will cause won't scream magic and that's all that matters. You don't want the city's coven to get wind of this. Trust me."

There was a slight edge to his voice that made me wonder if he'd ever been on bad terms with the coven. But I knew then wasn't the time to ask.

"Can you get me some clothes?" I asked quickly, as my clothes had been completely destroyed and I had been put in a hospital gown.

"I'll do my best," he said, apprehension clear in his voice and face.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Or he didn't just close them, he pressed them tightly shut. Then he mumbled something that didn't sound like any language I'd heard before. There was a flash of light and when it disappeared, there were clothes on the floor in front of him. He bent down and handed it over to me. It was nothing fancy, just pants, a T-shirt, and sneakers.

"No underwear?" I asked with a light chuckle, though the look he sent me was shooting daggers.

"I'll wait outside while you get dressed," he muttered and turned to leave.

"I'm Morana, by the way," I said before he reached the door.

He turned and looked back at me. A slight smile on his face.

"Alejo," he answered before leaving me to change.