Savior

The Girl On My Balcony

H

Whenever I used to stare at a blank canvas for hours on end, my mum would come up to my room –turned art studio- with a cup of tea and tell me, “Haz, if you aren’t even inspired enough in your life for a single brush stroke, then you’re doing something wrong.”

Every time she would repeat these words, I would stop trying to force creativity and try to somehow inspire myself. At first it was going to parties, then it was getting girlfriends, but now, none of those things seem to work anymore. It’s like this mundane life I’ve been living for the past couple of years has sucked any creative juices right out of me.

Regardless, I found my mum’s advice ruminating in my head while staring at yet another white canvas. For the life of me, I just can’t seem to shake whatever rut I’m in to actually conjure up even a painting of a kitty.

So, I do what I’ve been doing for the last few months; get up, shove my supplies into a closet, and walk away.

Unfortunately, Niall’s back at work at the music store and that means my usual means of distraction have vanished. He would usually make me play Fifa with him or take me out to a bar, but now I have to find something else to pass the time. I wipe my sweaty palms on my black jeans and pull out my phone to finally return the three missed calls Jaime had left me since yesterday.

“Monkey!” She answers on the first ring and I cringe at the nickname, “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

I sigh into the phone and plop onto our homely tweed couch. It’s not that I was purposefully dodging her calls, but I would be lying if I said that I didn’t jump up to answer when I heard her ringtone blare. I like Jaime –no, I love her- but she has a tendency to cling. The incessant phone calls and texts go from cute to unbelievably annoying in two seconds flat.

Despite that, she is sweet and very kind and honestly all I could ask for. So, why do I feel so… empty when I’m with her?

“Sorry, Niall had the TV blaring. Couldn’t hear the phone.” Only a half-lie.

“Oh, that’s okay! So, I was hoping we could have dinner with my parents this weekend! They really want to meet you.” Her voice is sickly sweet, but I can’t help but cringe at her suggestion.

I’ve been with Jaime for about two months now and she already wants me to meet the family. I guess that’s s normal at this stage, but I know that once I do take that next step, Jaime will want to zip through all the next. And next thing I know, I’m married with two kids and a cat named Sprinkles.

“I’d love to, but I’m visiting my mum this weekend.” Again only a half-lie.

The room grows increasingly suffocating; just talking about meeting Jaime’s parents has me hyperventilating. I don’t plan on meeting them anytime soon, maybe not until we’re long married. But, I just can’t see that ever happening. Even the thought of me standing at the alter with her has my throat constricting. So, I hastily walk from the messy living room to my equally as dirty bedroom to slip out the balcony for some fresh air.

Jaime is rambling on about how fun it would be if I ditched my mum for her parents and I have to try really hard not to yell at her. I roll my eyes as I step out onto the icy balcony and turn slightly to close the doors, only to freeze in place.

There, hanging from my balcony railing, is an insanely breathtaking woman.

My mouth pops open at the sight of her and her own pink, chapped lips do the same. Her fiery hair is chopped to her shoulders and whips around her face in the breezy air. Freckles dance across the planes of her prominent cheekbones and what looks to be a fading bruise is visible against that same skin. My brows furrow at the sight, but it doesn’t hold my attention long.