Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"I read you. And god I'm good at it. I'm so spot on. Chord, shapes in air. Go press that dissonance, if you dare." ♫ Breathe In by Frou Frou.
IM SO SORRY. THE CRINGE IS REAL. I WARNED YOU.
✰✰✰
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One Week Later.
"And I'm high enough from all the waiting. To ride a wave on your inhaling..."
Listening to 'Frou-Frou's Breathe In' blast through the record shops' speakers, I got caught red-handed, or rather red-faced staring at Jess for the fifth time that day.
Or maybe the hundredth, I didn't know, I stopped counting.
It was safe to say I had a staring problem, but I was addicted to looking at him, he was so freakin' gorgeous and the way he looked at me? I could've passed out or dropped dead from the sparkle in his pretty eyes. If we weren't already on the verge of hooking up, I would've thought he was a creepy stalker. He looked at me and watched me so fondly.
A week it'd been like this. Stolen glances and believe it or not, stolen kisses.
I think I like him...
The past days had been so amazing and-he'd made up for ditching me with more than enough affection.
In addition to the flowers he brought me almost everyday, he bought me lunch, bought me chocolates, and took me to the coffee shop across the street on my breaks to get scones. He knew just how much I loved them and even though he was allergic to blueberries and shouldn't be within' four feet of me when I ate them, he made the exception.
I'd become a lot more comfortable around him and he made me feel really, really good.
One of the things I liked about him so much was how easy our conversation came.
I didn't understand references about Star Wars or about Pulp Fiction, which was his favorite movie, but I listened anyways.
And I'd learned a lot about him.
He told me he was twenty, had two sisters both younger than him, named Ashley and Leila, and lived with his mother to help take care of them both.
His told me that his favorite food was shrimp pasta, but he hated peas, and was allergic to blueberries and raspberries.
He told me he loved rock music, tolerated jazz, and hated classical despite the fact that I caught him listening to Mozart once.
There were a lot of random things about him.
But the constant was that he loved kissing me.
Ever since our first just five days prior after work, he'd been all over me.
And I'm okay with that.
I felt hands snaking around my waist and I rolled my eyes, dropping the records I was holding to look up at Jess. "I'm trying to work."
