Wild Flowers, Coffee and Paint

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London, England, 1986

It was a rainy day in London as usual and even at around 5 p.m, Valerie Knox did not feel like getting out of the bed. The day was gloomy, much like the rest of her days.

She had a headache. Not again, she thought.

The paint smeared all across the room was evidence of her struggle with art. Valerie simply could not come up with new ideas. At 22 only, she was beginning to feel like an old fart already.

She had always thought she had the soul of an artist. Even as a child, she could find art in anything. Be it people, roads, food, animals or even inanimate objects - art was everywhere. However, in music, she thought it could be found exsessively. So, Valerie spent as much time as possible listening to music she loved. The music that made her feel alive and want to live. Living was particularly hard for her as losing her parents at the age of 4 was a huge blow. It was something that crushed her and also made her somewhat different from all the other children at that time. When girls played with dolls, she sat in the park alone listening to the sound of wind. Thunderstorms excited her.

But it was rain that she despised the most. It was something she absolutely dreaded because it reminded her of the day when she was a child. A child who stayed in the rain soaking for two hours after hearing her mommy and daddy will never be coming back to her again. She knew what it meant, even when others tried to console her by saying that they had gone to 'heaven' and that they will be meeting her 'someday'.

What a load of bullshit, she thought to herself.

Valerie finally got out of bed. After all, it was only five and she could try and forget that it was freakin' raining outside. She grabbed her raincoat, a bright red one she had just bought a week ago, and stepped outside with her black oversized umbrella.

As black as my soul, she thought out loud. "What the fuck is wrong with me today?" She yelled and almost startled a bunch of teenagers passing by her. They gave her the looks which suggested that she was insane.

Yeah, fuck you too. Huffing, she made her way to the grocery store. Maybe they have re-stocked the lovely Swiss dark chocolate I can't live without. Hmm..

The grocery store was crowded and for a moment, she was happy to be away from the damn rain. Fuck me and my rain phobia. Oh, this thinking is getting tiresome!

Just as she was making her way to the aisle where her favorite chocolate could be found, she ran straight into a man. What in the fuck??! She almost fell down but was caught by strong male hands. Standing back up, she glared at the man who seemed to be covering too much of his face with oversized aviators and a baggy, black hoodie. But nothing could hide his silky red hair and fine white skin.

"Are you blind? You literally just bulldozed into me, Mr.!"

I exclaimed a little too loudly. This seemed to make the man raise an eyebrow. Funny.

"I apologize, I am in a bit of a rush here and really didn't really see you coming."

I let out a sigh. Okay, whatever. Do I sense an American accent? Ah.

"That's quite alright and I'm sure it's hard to see anything with those sunglasses you have on in the evening." And now I've amused him.

He raises an eyebrow. "These are for reasons I can't disclose here, love, and frankly I don't want to." He says and proceeds to pass on to the billing counter.

I am left standing there with an odd expression. I normally don't have much to think about people. I mean, they are just people. Did I forget to mention I don't love people? But funny enough, people happen to love me.

Well, huh, Val, not this guy. I look around to see him take out a cigarette from his Marlboro pack. I smoke my cigarette with style... The lyrics from "Night Train" are circling inside my head. Weird. I discovered Guns N' Roses around last year and cannot seem to get their music out of my head. Not only do I love the lyrics, but everything else is just too perfect. A beautiful mix of guitar, drums, bass and of course, vocals. I have heard much about the notorious lead singer of the band. Axl Rose. Thinking about his name even gives me butterflies in the stomach. What is it about him, again, that I am so attracted to? I only went to see them live once and that too, with a friend who was high as fuck. Shit happened at the worst time when she got into a fight with another chick who stole her beer and I had to get her out of there, which really made me sad as we just had entered the darn concert. Although I heard the first minute of one of their most famous songs "Mr. Brownstone" and nearly danced my ass off to it. What was it with these guys and drugs, again?

My thoughts came back to the present day scenario where I was standing and gawking at the strange man. Lucky for me, his attention had diverted and I could see him move around the counter puffing his cigarette. I had this sudden urge to go after him. I can't really explain it but I felt as if I knew him. Now you're clearly fucking mad, Val, atta girl! More thoughts like these and you'll be in the mental asylum in the next few years.

Shaking my head, I turned and walked away to find my favorite Swiss dark chocolate. I must leave.

What Valerie did not know was that the man had been secretly looking at her as well. He knew that she had been 'checking him out' but then again, he had to correct himself because it did not seem as if she was really checking him out. He didn't know whether that offended him or not but the look on her face had been a lost one. But even in her lost, dazed out state, she looked beautiful. This was the first thing he noticed about her. With her dark eyes and chocolate brown hair that touched her hips, she was breathtakingly gorgeous. When she fell right into his arms and looked at him as he caught her by the waist, he nearly had to suck in his breath. She smelled of wild flowers and coffee...and paint. It was a heady combination. Although he felt like an asshole for talking to her the way he did, he thought now that maybe it was for the best.

Axl knew what he was and what he did to people. He did not want to think about this beautiful, unknown woman. He did not want to talk to her or get to know her during their second brief tour in England. He did not want to drag her in the corner of the grocery store just so he could press her soft, luscious lips with his.

"Jesus fucking hell!"I need to fuck, he thought rather grimly and turned around to get one more glimpse of her before she rushed out of the store.

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