Here I Stand √ Juice Ortiz.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ

             The summer began with a soft warm mist. Just like many devilish summers, the season held extortionary heat. Yet, tonight, a soft breeze kept the air chilly and bearable. The civilians of Charming settled down in their homes with glee, unaware of the events to eventually bewitch their existences; A woman with hazel eyes and curls touching her shoulders spoke shocking oaths. Ready to leave this world. The only river within the town swirled with delight. Prepared to take yet another victim. As she stood, the memories of what used to be - echoed into the evening clouds.

Until a young man rescued her from her untimely death. His brown eyes touched her hazel ones. The smell of freshwater tickled their noses as their voices reached the other. This man had come out of nowhere. Like an uncertain spirit. Willing to save those who begged for an end. Prompting their life, nonetheless, held happiness and change. Death isn't the only option.

He did not know why she wanted extinction, but he understood. Perhaps Juan Carlos was the only soul in this town to completely understand.

"Here," Juan held out an unopened bottle of Pepsi, stepping down the threshold leading into a small gas station building just a mile away from that bridge. The stranger lifted her head, gazing at the smooth bottle with a questionable glance. However, she gratefully took his gift. Juan sat beside his new friend with his vitamin water between his hands. The bottom of his boots happily taps against the ground, as he watched vehicles come and go from gas pumps.

Subsequently, the two made their way from the bridge. Deciding this old-fashioned gas station that was built in the 70s was a reasonable place to rest.

If only Clove Knox understood how much this meant to him. Not only did he save someone, but Juan wasn't home alone with his heavy thoughts. For once, the man could make a difference. Even if this woman wasn't going to stay in his life for long.

After taking a sip of his vitamin water, Juan took a chance to study the woman yet again. This time, underneath the fluorescent lights, he could see her characteristics better. The details on her face a mixture of European and African features. Freckles dotted her nose and her thick brows were manipulated to be arched in the neatest way possible. Her wild curly hair a dark amber and hazel eyes pouty. She wore skin-tight ripped jeans, worn boots, a black tank top, and his hoodie over it. Despite the harsh words that flew from her mouth, Juan's opinion of Clove's manifestation to seem soft and gentle.

"Where are you from?" Juan raised his brows, his shoulder bumping Cloves as she lowered the mouth of the bottle away from her lips.

Clove contemplated his question, then with her heavy eyes, replaced her gaze onto him. Deciding he is trustworthy. "England. Thought my accent would give you a hint," she says in a cocky tone, attempting to hide the bitterness.

"Yeah, but you could have been from Australia or -"

Clove scoffed at his comment and shook her head. As if what Juan had explained came to be hilarious. As handsome as he is, Clove began to query his intelligence.

"Australia and England are two different places - nowhere near each other," Clove chuckled, taking yet another gulp of her soda.

Juan, nervously laughed, kicking himself mentally. Looking down at their boots touching the other, Juan self consciously crashed his knee against her own. Enjoying the slight connection between them. His appetite to be next to someone is being fulfilled. No matter how long they sit, at least Juan could say he wasn't alone. A silence fell between them as both of their minds wandered to their personal lives outside of this gas station.

After some time, Clove finally stood. She silently sulked towards a single trashcan next to the gas station's entrance. Juan scrambled to his feet, gripping his half-empty bottle. Researching the back of her curls. Wishing he could pick her brain and fully understand why. The sadness in her stare is a reminder of his own. A reminder of his sorrow.