A Different Past"Monsieur? Etes-vous bien?" She called to the young man whose arm she was pulling from the ground, bike at her feet.
The boy only groaned in response, stumbling to his feet and clutching his helmet tightly to his head, trying to feel his forehead through it.
She continued to speak in worried French, asking him how he managed to take a fall from the building above and if he needed to be taken to a hospital.
He straightened himself, rubbing underneath where his helmet was covering, not wanting to take it off. "N-now Miss I don't talk no Spanish ."
She tilted her head, confused by the language barrier now set. She examined the young man, seeing his uniform that seemed a bit large for him, as if it was not really his. Even his helmet was too large, covering his eyes. If it were not for his large arms and towering height, he would have looked like a child playing dress up. However, it was this uniform that mesmerized the girl. For it was this uniform and strange language that proved