Brenton Thwaites Imagines

The Boy I Saved

It was a breezy day in Australia. I was visiting my dad for the summer. At first, it's sucked but after I got past the constant arguing with my father and his new wife I actually started to enjoy it.

Every day, I walked the shaded walk to the beach to work on my second novel. I write fantasy stories. My last book sold over 50,000 copies and my publisher is drilling me for another book. To say the least, I felt a bit pressured.

The calming crashing of waves drew me to the pier. I took a deep breathe as the breeze blew my hair out of my face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a boy with short brown hair climb onto the railing. I tried not to stare but something about his tense shoulders made it hard for me to look away.

He sat on the railing looking down. At the bottom was rushing waves and pointy rocks.

The look on his face. The railing. The rocks. My heart dropped. He was going to jump.....

It took me two seconds to decide to walk over there.

"Hi." What the heck is wrong with me?? I don't even know what to say! How do I..... What do I....

"Ummm hello," he said clearly feeling the same awkwardness I did.

Now what? Do I ask him his name or.... Ugh! What is wrong with me?

"So umm I'm new here and I was wondering if you new any good places to get coffee." I sound like an idiot.

"Yyeah..." He stuttered. "There's Annie's diner. You can get the best coffee in town and also the best muffins." I saw a small smile creep onto his face. That's a start.

"Wanna show me where it is?" Was it just me or was this whole conversation very cliché?

"It's down the street about 2 blocks. Big red sign. Can't miss it."

I laughed causing him to look at me in confusion. It was the first time I saw his face. "I meant would you like to go with me?"

He looked over the railing one last time before looking back at me. He smiled. "It's this way." He hopped off the railing and started walking.

I gave myself a mental high five as we walked down the street.

"So, what's your name?" I asked putting my hands in my back pockets.

"Brenton." He said softly. I could tell by how he was overly focused on where we were going that he wasn't a talker.

"Nice to meet you, Brenton. I'm Melody but my friends call me Mel." He just nodded.

I laughed as we got to what I'm guessing in the diner. "What?" He asked as he opened the door for me.

I walked past him, still chuckling. "We're in trouble!"

"Wait what? Why?" He started to panic.

"Because, neither one of us talks much!" After he thought about what I had said, he started to laugh with me.

"Yep! We're screwed." He chuckled. We seated ourselves still laughing.

Just like I had predicted, neither one of us talked. After we ordered, Brenton was the first to break the silence. "So what's you're story?"

"Ehh it's not much of a story." I shrugged taking a sip of my root beer.

"Try me."

I chuckled before sighing, "Well, I'm a writer. By first book did pretty well for a first novel. My publisher is constantly breathing down my neck waiting to hear my next big story but there's a tiny problem; I can't think of anything. I've been hitting my head against the wall! I'm a has-been after one book! I have the worse writers block in the history of writers!"