(A report from the desk of Police Inspector Roseline Baptiste)
Translated from Haitian Creole
I was frozen in his gaze again as I lay there in his arms. Elvis…came back to help me.
"That was a nasty spill you took. Al and I were about to leave when we heard the commotion." He spoke with compassion. The expression on his face was one of genuine concern. He was holding my body in a gentle but supportive manner. The touch of his arms was warm and soothing. There was a long pause, as I forced myself to breathe. Elvis was so patient and so gentle. Finally I pushed a few words out of my mouth. My lungs and throat aching as I did.
"Y-You…Wh-why? Why did you come back for me?" I looked up again and directly into his piercing blue gaze.
"Hey hey, woah now, I'm no doctor but I don't think you should be talking. Just relax Rosie, okay?” He spoke softly; his voice disarming and pleasant.
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"Y-You are a strange criminal, Mr Elvis." I choked on my words a little, my body was still writhing in pain.
“Well, that's the thing isn’t it? I’m not really a criminal.” He paused. “Well, technically I am, I guess I am.” He looked amused with himself. “Not like I wanted to though.” Roseline rolls an 18 on an insight check. He spoke with such sincerity his face too told a story of expressions all to itself.
It was at this point I finally broke away from staring at him and glanced around the area. The other man, his friend, was standing at the far end of the landing where the stairs lead down.
“What is he doing?” I gestured to the other man as best I could.
“Oh him? Well when you fell down the steps it made an awful lot of ruckus. Al thought it might have scared the tennents into calling the police. So he's keeping a look out for us.” He seemed unfazed by the situation, his stoic kindness unwavering.
I started to force myself to stand up. My body, while still in a great deal of pain, did as it was ordered. Elvis looked shocked as I suddenly rose to my feet.
“Hey, easy now Rose, you gotta be gentle to yourself. Risin’ up quickly like that is dangerous.” His stoicism slightly shifted into concern.
“Elvis, Al, I have a plan.”