Slendie RP, Anyone?

"No, nothing..." He said, his hand slightly muffling his words. But he can still be heard clearly. He started to look at Louis, the man was still a mystery. What messed him up so bad? The girl, for some reason trusted him despite having a knife... He didn't really trust himself. Who would bury a law-abiding citizen in the woods. He said to Louis, "Sorry, did you want anything?"

When the water began to bubble, Hannah quickly made work of the drinks, making the teas milky and the coffee black. Managing to pick them all up at once, Hannah walked into the sitting room, handing the man his tea and perching on the arm of the sofa by Louis' feet.

Louis gave a few quick blinks, attempting to squint past the purple patterns created by the light upon his retinas; it was no good, but it was getting there, if a little slowly. Suddenly, something clicked in his head: that other guy, the one that had just spoken to him, The guy with the flickblade from the woods, here?. However, it'd taken him so long to recognise this fact, he automatically presumed it no longer a potential danger.

He felt the sofa creak as someone joined him. I've got my mucky feet on the furniture. Typical.

"Thank you." He said gratefully to Hannah with a faint smile. "So... about that discussion we were going to have..."

"Louis?" Hannah called out gently. She stretched across the sofa, coffee in hand, towards Louis. "Hey, sir.. I never even asked your name." She looked up to the man across the room.

Louis moved himself into a sitting position on the sofa, then carefully took the mug from Hannah, his long fingers interweaving across the smooth patterned surface as he took a delicate sip, his eyes now wide open as he followed Hannah's gaze to the stranger.

"John" He gasped out. Without hesitating. "Smithison." He added after little thought. He couldn't think of anything else. He avoided eye cotact and felt his lump on his head. The photograph of the woman was beside him.

Hannah's fingers delicately ran over the surface of the mug and she took a sip of her tea, shuddering at the warmth it provided. She stared into the pale liquid, reluctant to answer any questions John had.

"Why were you two in the woods, anyway?" He asked casually. He took a sip of his tea. He could almost sense the tension in the room. Maybe he was a fugitive?

Louis glanced at Hannah, his big, blue eyes attempting to gauge her reaction to the sensitive question. Thoughtfully, he took another sip of the coffee, his top lip resting on the brim of the mug as his eyes flickered back to John.

Trying to delay the question, she spoke quietly. "Would you like something to clean your arm up with? Maybe a shower in general?" she offered. Her small hands wrapped around the mug's surface, absorbing its warmth.

"No, I'm fine." The reminder of the wound made it sting in ackowledgment. "I don't want to impose. But a bandage would be nice." If he was a bank robber or something, he at least wanted to get arrested dressed. "Do I look familiar to either of you?"

"Not to me." She shrugged, relieved that he'd let the subject drop. Putting down her mug, she dropped to her feet. "Come on, then. Let's get you bandaged." She headed upstairs, into the bathroom.

Louis tilted his head slightly, contemplating John's facial features in more detail as he took another thoughtful sip of coffee. He gave a little shrug, indicating that he'd seen many faces, perhaps one of them belonging to John.

"Okay, thank you." He put his mug down on top of the photgraph of the woman, and stands up. He follows Hanah upstairs to the bathroom in order to get his arm bandaged. Once up there, he asks. "What kinda wound would you say it is?" He traced his finger around the small circular wound.

"I'm not sure.." Hannah frowned at the wound, reaching out to touch it lightly. "Hmm." she muttered, turning and opening the medicine cabinet, rummaging through its contents. She pulled out a bottle of antiseptic spray. "Here we go, let's get it cleaned up."

Making sure John was safety upstairs, Louis carefully placed his own mug on the floor beside his resting place on the sofa. With a little effort, he rose from the plush cushions, limped across the room, raising John's cup enough to see the photo in full. His mouth twisted in a small, bitter smile. That about confirms it.

Hannah took John's hand and pulled it out, straightening his arm, and sprayed the wound with the spray using her spare hand. While she waited for it to dry, she turned and found a bandage in the cupboard.

The photo is of a blonde woman with green eyes, smiling at the camera, she appears to be in her early twenties.

"Thanks again." He said to Hannah, quiet genuinely. "I don't think I should ask about what you were doing in the woods. Too personal, huh?"

"It's not that." Hannah laughed once, without humour, before looking up to John's face, looking in his eyes with her tired ones for a brief moment. "You just wouldn't believe me if I told you." She dropped her gaze, quickly wrapping up the wound with the bandage.

"Try me. I got memory loss." He tightened the bandage and rubbed his arm. "Thanks." He looked back up at her. "I can take it."

She paused for a long moment, collecting her thoughts and preparing her words. "..What do you know of the paranormal, John?"

"Much as I do anything else." He chuckled. "Nothing."

Hannah swallowed and nodded, dropping her gaze. "Maybe we should go and check on Louis." She mumbled, her voice soft.

"Sure thing. Lead the way." He says casually while folding down his bloodied shirt sleeve. And following her back down.