Broken Souls

Chemistry

Estelle felt comforting warmth on her hand, but she ignored the feeling. The warmth spread around her hand as it pulled on her gently, causing her to fall back into a male's arms. Her eyes opened slowly as she took a deep breath and busted into tears once more. The male figure tenderly sat her down on the concrete.

"Hey. Are you alright?" His voice was husky. He crouched down in front of her, careful not to frighten her more than she already was. He'd seen this type of behavior before and it made his heart break to see someone suffer so much that they wanted to end everything.

She looked up at him while tears streamed down her face. "Y-Yeah. I'm okay..." Her mind couldn't make sense of why a random stranger would save her. He sure was handsome though.

"What's your name?" He questioned as he sat down in front of her with his legs crossed. His eyes scanned her face in the darkness as she tried to compose herself. The left corner of his mouth pulled into a glimmer of a smile as he waited. In a single moment, he'd noted every single feature of her face, every curve of her body, every strand of hair that was misplaced, and the way she carried herself. It intrigued him as to how someone so...enchanting could suffer so much.

Her eyes posed the biggest distraction. He'd never seen such a big and bubbly pair of eyes be full of despair and lacking vitality. It made him want to hug her cares away until she could smile.

Her brown eyes blinked away the remainder of her tears. Her heart slowed when her eyes met this stranger's eyes. She thought his face was enchanting; borderline beautiful. He was wearing plain black jeans with a white T-shirt that said, "Dirty Vibe", in an edgy and colorful font. His hair was cut just above his ear and bleached. It kind of looked like he just rolled out of bed. But who was she to judge? She studied his face through slightly squinted eyes in the dim light. His eyes were alluring yet intimidating. They looked like they had stories to tell. His cheekbones were barely noticeable in this lighting.

But...his lips. His lips are what made her heart race. They looked so...kissable. She'd always had a hard time with extremely attractive men and speaking with them. But this guy...he was different. His face stirred her heart but his presence calmed her mind in the same instant.

Her cheeks warmed when she realized she had been staring at his face entirely too long for comfort. "Oh. My name? My name is Estelle. My friends call me Elle. You can call me either one to be totally honest. Because it doesn't bother me any like it would most people. Because it's just a nickname and not something as serious as the plague and I should stop talking now, right?" Estelle bites down on her lower lip as her eyes darted to the concrete separating the two. She desperately hoped she wasn't coming off too creepy and talkative. Underneath the depression was an excitable chatterbox.

The male laughed at Estelle's nearly run-on sentences. "It's okay. Your nerves are shot. I understand. Adrenaline. It happens." He flashed a warm smile as he hunched forward, placing his elbows on his knees to get more comfortable.

"Estelle? That's a beautiful name. It sounds French. Is it? You don't have an accent. So I'm guessing you're not French? If you are, I apologize."

She chuckled as she twisted her right index finger around a curl in her hair. "I don't know if it's French," she admitted. "But you are correct. I'm not French. I'm actually American. I'm here for a concert that my friend won tickets for. Apparently I need it or something."

"I'd say you do," he agreed.

Her face twisted up a little at his comment. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

He sighed softly as he rubbed his forehead to figure out how to word his response without setting her off. He knew depression and its accompaniments all too well.