Red dumped herself onto her coach and sighed. She seemed to be doing an awful lot of that lately. It had been three days since the stranger had arrived, along with Snow and Emma. She was happy, of course, for her friends' safe return, but Red soon decided she did not like their hooked companion. She admitted his jaw line was more prominent than most, and his eyes…oh god, his eyes, but she refused to give in to the ruffled hair that refused to lie straight. No. She was stronger than that.

What had caused her to feel this way, you ask? He winked at her. It was not often Red judged someone on petty habits, but this wasn't one of those innocent winks you throw around for fun. It wasn't even a friendly wink. He had sent it just to see her make a mess of the coffee she was making and hear her trip over her words. She was sure of it.

He had sauntered into the diner with his trademark smirk and sat himself down at the nearest booth. He ordered his meal with that rugged accent of his and threw her a smile. He didn't even say please.

So now you must understand why she hated his perfect smile and the mischievous glint in his eyes. She hated that he smelt like sea salt, cinnamon and beer and she hated the little accent of his. She hated that he could make her feel like she was a teenager again, and she decided she had the right to mope about it for as long as she deemed necessary.

He was a stranger. A rude, proud and awfully good-looking stranger. Who did he think he was, with his chest all puffed out and his shirt only half done up? She wouldn't fall for his bad boy act. She wouldn't.