I fell for a man who makes my nose bleed

I first saw him when I was boarding the plane.

He stood out in the middle of a packed airport.

Bright red, traffic-light hair, pale skin, and uneven freckles speckling his cheeks. Long trench coat thrown over a tee and shorts. Head buried in a dog-eared copy of Dracula. I saw him again on the plane.

He was sitting three seats behind me, squeezed between a pregnant woman and her preteen daughter, who spent the whole flight watching him intently.

I wasn’t surprised. He was attractive, arrogant, and detached. Nothing seemed to matter to him except his book.

Halfway through the flight, the girl leaned over her seat, holding an iPhone with Mickey Mouse ears perched on her head.

He curled further into his seat, eyes fixed on the pages.

She snapped a photo of him with the flash on. “You're rude.”

“And you're taking photos of me without my consent,” his voice surprised me. Irish.

I caught a glimpse of him when I stepped off the plane, still frowning at his book as he dragged his carry-on behind him.

A wave of nausea slammed into me, bile creeping up my throat.

Before I could stop myself, I snapped a quick photo of his back.

”Cute guy on the plane 👁️,” I texted my bestie.

To my surprise, the guy was staying at my hotel.

His eyes were still glued to the book, though he seemed more alive now, offering the staff an easy smile. I couldn’t resist taking another subtle photo of him.

A dull pain thudded across the back of my skull as I typed out another message:

"This guy is following me, I swear." 👁️👁️

“Miss?” The receptionist called me over, and I joined him.

I tried to say my name, my tongue tangling.

Next to me, the guy was noticeably paler, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry.” He dropped his wallet, letting out a choked laugh. “Uh, sorry, I just…” he blinked rapidly, "Where's your nearest pharmacy?”

I thought it was the Australian heat.

But then his familiar head of red curls appeared at the beach.

I was tanning, and he lay down his beach towel right next to me. Agony struck the back of my head, like my skull had been split apart, my brain stirred into soup.

The guy hissed out, ducking his head, confirming my suspicion. I couldn't stop myself, twisting around, every nerve ending ignited, my stomach swimming, and purposely walked directly into him.

His head snapped up, eyes blown wide.

“Fuck.” He let out a quiet laugh, side-stepping me.

I side-stepped him at the same time, trying to ignore that incessant pain creeping across my forehead. His smile widened.

“Dude, you are everywhere.”

I didn't respond.

I couldn't, my mouth tasted of blood.

Instead, I forced a smile, and willed my legs to work.

Once I was far away enough, the pain fading to a dull murmur, I snapped another shot of him wading into the sea. “This guy isn't just following me, girl,” I sent my bestie. “I think he's making me sick?”

She replied immediately. “He looks hot! 😭👁️ Show me his face lmao wdym he's making you sick?”

I backed away as far as possible, but the sun was blocking him.

“Booooo.” She sent back. “I can't see his face. Girl, describe him 👁️.”

I didn't respond until later that night, sitting in a bar with a sour tasting cocktail.

“He's gone lol.” I sent her, much to her disdain.

I was idly licking the sugar from the rim when I glimpsed an ignition of red in the crowd.

He caught my eye while wrapped around a blonde, his lips to her neck, and something unraveled in me. I dropped my drink, orange vodka erupting back up my throat.

Fuck. I was going to throw up.

“Urgh!” A squeak startled me.

The blonde was screaming.

“You ruined my fucking shoes!”

My gaze shifted to the redhead, who stood sheepishly, wiping at a trail of vomit dripping down his chin. He met my eye, his lip curling, and vomited all over himself.

I made it to the girls bathroom, not before he stopped me. “Hey!” He was breathless, hair stuck to his eyes with sweat.

I stumbled back, spitting blood, and his eyes widened.

“What the fuck?” He whispered, when thick beads of red ran from his nose. He swiped at it angrily. “What the fuck are you doing to me? How are you doing that?”

“Me?” I choked out. I had to step back to dull the striking pain slamming into my skull. “You're the one making ME sick!”

I averted my gaze, because somehow, looking at him hurt.”

His expression softened. “Okay, look,” he glared at the floor instead of me. “Let's talk.” He laughed. “Obviously, we’ll keep our distance, but we should talk.”

I nodded, and together, we backed away from each other.

Six feet apart.

He surprised me with a smile. “Better.” He had to shout over the music.

“I'm Jamie, by the way!” He nodded to the bar, swiping at his nosebleed. “I'll go… get you a drink, all right? Stay there!”

“Fine.” I said. “I'm Tally!”

“Nice to meetcha!” He yelled over his shoulder.

I took a clear photo of him and sent it to my bestie.

“There.” I messaged her. “His name is Jamie, and we’re getting drinks.”

My phone vibrated with a notification as I was scrolling.

“Tally, THE PROXIMITY!”

“Tally, get away from him. NOW.”

A cold shiver slid down my spine. I swiped at my own bloody nose.

That's your ex boyfriend. Don't you remember the restraining order? The proximity barrier?” Her messages filled my screen, as blood soaked my hands.

“Tally!”

I looked up. Jamie was coming over with two drinks.

My gaze flicked back to my screen.

“Jamie killed your son. You both agreed to FORGET.”

“Get OUT of there before the proximity barrier breaks!”