Louisa's POV
The whole yard became very quiet almost instantly.
"Darren, please pull Colt out of the water before he drowns to death. Ms. Salamander, I know it sounds weird but you look pretty inside out. You're welcome to our place but you ought to promise me that there will never be fights again in our yard. And I need you to release your brother because I kind of need him to help me repair the watermill. And you, mister..."
I paused because I shifted my sight to Colt, who had just regained consciousness after being half pulled out of the water by Darren.
He looked very confused and... gratuitously hot.
His shirt was damp and wrapped very tightly over his perfect pectorals.
OK. He looked like a drowned rat. Indeed.
But he looked like a damn good-looking rat in his damn revealing shirt.
I took a deep breath and continued, "Well, you, mister. You need more buttons on your shirt and..."
Darren pulled all of him out of the water.
"... and you're not wearing any pants."
Darren immediately released him and he fell into the stream again.
OK. That's enough. I can't do this anymore.
I turned back to Ms. Salamander and said, "Lassie, you can't just pull off a boy's pants to get his attention. Please return this gentleman's pants to him."
Ms. Salamander spat out Colt's pants from her mouth and buried her head into the stream.
Mr. Salamander looked very excited.
"I can't believe it. You've made it! You finally shut my sister up," he said.
"One more word, boy, I'll punch you at your nose and kick you out of my yard." I looked at him and narrowed my eyes.
Mr. Salamander submerged his head into the water as well.
"What happened to her?" I heard Mr. Salamander whispering in a bubbled voice.
"She had sex last night. She's grumpy now because her boyfriend has left." Ms. Salamander said in a muffled voice.
"Wow, and I've broken her watermill. She's definitely in a foul mood now."
"She'll be fine as soon as her boyfriend returns. Meanwhile, let's just stay in the stream and play mute and deaf."
"OK. Let's take a nap. You can sleep on top of me to keep an eye on what's going on and tell me about it."
"OK."
I just couldn't believe it.
Did they just reconcile with each other at my expense?
Anyway. At least they could be quiet for a while.
I picked up the sticky pants and washed them in the water.
I bashed the pants so hard that it must have terrified both Colt and Darren.
"Lisa, I'll take Colt away and sort him out. What do you say?" Darren asked in a tentative voice.
"I say thank you," I replied.
Then, I put the washed pants on the stone and started to prepare breakfast.
Darren sighed and said to Colt, "Come with me, old sport. I'll help you dry your shirt and pants."
Colt picked up the wet pants and put them on. Then, he asked desperately, "Is Jack really dead?"
"Yes. That's what we've been trying to tell you." Darren said and lit up a fire.
"Am I dead?" Colt asked in a dreamy voice.
Darren patiently explained, "Colt, you're still alive. The salamanders are our friends. They were just trying to be nice. Please don't pass out again, because this is a very stressful morning for Lisa. What you're doing right now isn't helping."
Colt used his hands like fans and said, "I'm sorry for putting too much pressure on you and I apologize for passing out. I'm not making a scene. It's just... Jack was my best friend. We used to hang out with each other all the time. He was the only one who understood me and my designs..."
"Your designs?" Darren asked.
"Yeah. I'm a designer, an inventor, to be more precise. Nobody in the village appreciates my designs except Jack. That's why I promised to fix the watermill for him, but now he's gone. Nobody will treat me seriously anymore. I'm just some sort of brainless eye candy with a hot body, great hair, and a perfect smile." Colt covered his face and started to cry again.
Darren looked helplessly at me while drying up Colt's clothes. I knew he had reached his limit of putting up with Colt.
I wanted to say something to comfort him, but I couldn't really come up with anything, because his perfect naked body was too distracting.
As Darren dried Colt's clothes as quickly as possible, I poured some porridge into a bowl and handed it to him.
"Take some," I said, "It helps you to stay warm. But don't drink it too fast, it's..."
"Zowie guacamole! My perfect lips are burnt!" He exclaimed.
"... hot," I whispered, watching his handsome face getting distorted.
Darren rubbed his forehead and stood up.
"OK. Now I'm going to drink some porridge and go on building the shed. This situation..." he pointed at Colt, "... is all yours."
"Are you building a shed? Can I help?" I saw sparkles in Colt's eyes.
Darren flicked some fire on the tips of his finger and said, "No. Please don't come any closer to me."
"Why so much hatred, warlock?" Colt asked in a dramatic voice, looking heartbroken.
"I don't like the way you breathe. It's... too loud." Darren said and walked away.
Colt looked hurt for a while, but he soon collected himself and took another sip of the porridge...
... and he got burnt again.
I took the bowl from his hands and said, "Why don't we wait for a while before drinking it?"
"OK." He replied while wiping his lips.
Staring at the salamanders in the stream, Colt said, "I'm sorry for overreacting to your lizard friends. I have a phobia of reptiles. It's a primal fear. I can't control it."
"They're amphibians and they're very proud animals. Please don't call them lizards or reptiles. They get offended," I said.
Colt frowned and said, "Really? Do they think they're better than lizards? I'd thought feeling superior over other species is something exclusive to human beings."
I looked at Colt and said, "They wanted to be identified by us and treated with respect. I don't think there's anything wrong with that."
Colt noticed that I wasn't very happy and said, "OK. So, now, they are identified by me and with all respect, I apologize for being so arrogant."
I didn't say anything.
Darren was right. Colt was rude and inconsiderate.
I mean, what kind of person makes a man as tolerable as Darren irritated?
I started to get what Colt's catch is. He would always say the most offensive things without processing them in his brain, if there were any, and he didn't even notice he was doing it. The only thing that he was aware of, was the fact that he was really good-looking.
That, plus he had great hair, a hot body, and a perfect smile. He had a very conscious self-awareness of that.
I guess that's what it is. When a man is handsome, he can be excused for doing a lot of shitty things. He's just like a spoiled child, playing cute every time he gets caught doing something wrong.
This is just another harmless but annoying fact about how things work in our world.
I had no intention of making friends with people like this.
Just when I was about to ask him to leave, Colt looked at me with a strong curiosity, "I saw you talking to those salamanders. It's so cool! I sometimes talk to animals when I get too lonely, but they never talk back."
Lonely? Did he just use the word "lonely"?
"I thought a handsome guy like you would always be surrounded by girls who admire you," I said.
Colt smiled and said, "Yes, indeed! I love girls, they're so soft and they smell good. I've got so many girlfriends. Do you want to be my girlfriend? You can talk to animals and you keep weird pets. I like you..."
"Enough, mister!" I interrupted him, "I know you're handsome and everyone adores you no matter whatever stupid things you tell them, but you can't possibly think that you could walk into my life and demand me to be your girlfriend! That's absolutely absurd and extremely upsetting! I've got a boyfriend and he would break your neck if he..."
"Wow, wow... Hold your fire, girl. I guess we have a misunderstanding here." Colt waved his hands and his voice slid in and curved down.
There was something theatrical about him.
He continued, "Let's just say I have lots of girlfriends, but I feel lonely all the time. Do you feel me? No? OK. Try this one. I traveled 10 miles this morning, walking along the dangerous slippery lanes in a dangerous dark forest to meet a best friend named Jack. Does that ring any bells to you?" He wiped the invisible sweat on top of his forehead.
Huh? He was...
Crack.
I heard the sound of Darren bending a wooden stick until it broke into two halves.