{Andy}

Erik gestured for me to take off my boots, probably to prevent me from turning his house into a mud pit. Then, he beckoned me to follow him to what seemed to be the dining room, and as I entered, I noticed the room was very rustic and cozy, with stone walls, wooden ceilings and floors, and decorated in cream tones.

'The bathroom's over there,' Erik said, pointing to a door at the end of the lounge.

'Thanks,' I replied immediately, heading towards it.

I stopped in front of the mirror and gave myself a critical once-over, scrunching up my nose at the state of my reflection. My hair, wet and tangled, looked like it had been through a fight with the wind. I ran my fingers through the damp strands, trying to tame them enough to tie them up in a high ponytail. I didn't like having my face on full display, as it made me feel vulnerable, but it was definitely better than the wild look I had with my hair wet and tangled.

I took off the soaked grey jumper I was wearing and, as I did, I shivered with the cold, so I quickly put on the warm dark hoodie Erik had lent me, which, despite being a bit too big, made me feel much more comfortable. After tidying myself up a bit, I came out of the bathroom and saw Erik with his back to me in the kitchen.

But when he turned around, his intense gaze swept over me from head to toe, making my cheeks flush. I felt a burning heat spreading throughout my body, and instinctively, I made sure the zip of the hoodie was all the way up, not wanting to reveal more than I was willing to at that moment. His piercing gaze made me feel naked, but it also awakened an emotion I hadn't experienced in years: I felt attractive under his eyes.

'Let me, I'll put it to dry by the fireplace,' Erik said, approaching me and pointing to my soaked jumper.

I was grateful that he accompanied his words with clear non-verbal language, because between my nerves about being in his house and the depth of his accent, I barely understood five per cent of what he was saying.

He took one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen table and pulled it closer to the fireplace, draping my jumper over the back to dry. Meanwhile, I fidgeted with the cuffs of my hoodie, nervous, unable to tear my gaze away from him. I hadn't exaggerated at all when I imagined his attractiveness. In fact, he was even more impressive up close.

'You should consider buying a waterproof jacket with a hood,' he advised, snapping me out of my reverie.

'I'm sorry, what?' I asked, confused.

He smiled warmly, and his gaze met mine. He took a decisive step closer, accelerating my pulse. However, when his large hands gently took the hood of the hoodie and put it over my head, brushing against my cheek in the process, I held my breath involuntarily.

'A hood,' he said, placing his hand on my head and then pointing towards the window. 'For the rain.'

I blinked a couple of times, trying to process the information, but my mind was elsewhere, stuck on the spot where his hand had brushed against my skin with such gentleness. I opened my mouth as the words sank in, and I let out a sound of understanding. I nodded, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks.

I observed his movements out of the corner of my eye as he prepared what I assumed would be a couple of cups of tea. I bit my lip, unable to help but admire his athletic figure as he moved confidently around his own home.

'Do you like black tea?' Erik asked me in a smooth voice.

'Yes, thank you,' I lied, trying to maintain a neutral expression.

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The truth is, I didn't like tea, neither black, green, nor any other colour, but I wouldn't be the one to refuse a Brit a cup of tea after he had rescued me from the torrential rain. Erik approached the dark wooden coffee table in front of the sofa, placing the two cups with a soft clinking sound, and went back to the kitchen to fetch spoons and sugar.

'Where are you from?' he asked me with curiosity, gesturing for me to sit on the sofa while he approached.

I moved away from the fireplace, carefully circling the table to avoid bumping into it, which I often did. I sat relatively close to him, noticing how my skin prickled at his proximity.

'Madrid, Spain,' I smiled with pride. 'Do you know where it is?'

'Yes, but I've never been,' he replied, handing me the sugar bowl with a smooth movement. 'I only know Barcelona,' he added, his eyes sparkling with interest.

I was drawn to his smile and the way he looked at me, as if he was seeing something beyond my surface. I nodded, sighing with nostalgia for my hometown. My reaction must have amused him, because he let out a small, amused chuckle that made me look at him intrigued, with a smile on my lips.

'Yes... I know,' I admitted, a bit embarrassed. 'It was sunny when I left,' I added, trying to justify myself.

In reality, my jacket didn't have a hood, but I had gone out for a stroll with a certain sense of calm, convinced that the bright sun and blue sky didn't foretell the sudden rain that had caught me off guard minutes earlier.

'It's Scotland, never trust the sun,' he warned me, with a mischievous grin.

He turned towards the kitchen, where the water was bubbling in the electric kettle, and I took the opportunity to pull the hood back down, making sure my hair was still in place.

As he moved around the kitchen, I approached the chair in front of the fireplace. I warmed my hands near the fire, although I didn't really feel cold. It was impossible to feel cold when sharing the same room as that attractive man. Nevertheless, approaching the fireplace seemed less ridiculous than standing still in the middle of the room doing nothing.

'What's so funny?' I asked, curious to know what he had found so amusing.

'Don't you like Barcelona?' Erik asked, adding sugar to his tea after I had finished.

'I do, but Madrid is better,' I affirmed, sounding firm and confident.

'I'll have to go to Madrid to check it out,' Erik said, handing me the cup. I didn't want to drink the tea, but I didn't want to seem rude either.

'Are you on holiday?' he asked.

I shook my head, making a huge effort not to express my dislike for the bitter taste of the drink.

'No, sort of. Long holiday,' I croaked.

My gaze drifted towards the sugar bowl, and for a moment, I had the temptation to pour all the sugar into my cup. Erik shifted on the sofa, turning towards me with a charming smile. His gaze stopped on my lips, making me wet them unconsciously, and his eyes returned to mine.

'You haven't chosen the best destination to learn English,' he said in a deep, grave voice.

'I'm not here to learn English,' I ventured to reply, thinking he had said something about learning it.

'Then?' he asked with curiosity, taking a sip from his cup.

I fixed my eyes on his lips and how they wrapped around the rim of the porcelain. I could do without the sugar; surely, the tea tasted better on his lips.

'Uh... it's complicated,' I sighed, forcing myself to stop fantasizing and putting my cup down on the table.

How did I explain to a stranger that my world had fallen apart and I was trying to pick up the pieces? I forced a friendly smile, but I couldn't help but look down at the cup, feeling frustrated. The language was getting stuck in my throat more than I had thought.

'I understand,' Erik replied softly.

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, loaded with a palpable tension that made me more nervous than my own clumsiness with the language. I swallowed hard, desperately searching my mind for a topic I could handle with ease to break the ice.

'Do you live here?' I asked, knowing it was a silly question but hoping I had at least phrased it correctly.

'Yes,' he nodded, placing his cup on the table with a smooth movement. 'I'm the lighthouse keeper on the island.'

I narrowed my eyes, trying to understand what that meant. Erik, seeing that I didn't understand, got up and pointed towards the lighthouse through the window. Suddenly, everything clicked, like I had found the missing piece in a puzzle.

'Oh! Wow,' I exclaimed, my eyes wide with surprise.