"The past is one step ahead of you."
Liv Morales is a girl with a past.
Chris Carter is a boy with a past.
They only had one wish when they arrived in New York City: to move on.
After years of living in NYC and years of thinking that they have mo...
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When she gets back, the guy isn't there. And worse, her shoes are left with vomit all over them. Disgusting.
"Are you kidding me!"
She looks at her shoes and she gets mad. She's not going to touch those shoes again. Absolutely not. It's probably the most disgusting thing she's ever seen. She looks at the bag from the groceries in her hands and she starts walking again. That guy can't be too far, not when he's sick.
And she was right. She finds him less than two blocks away. He's sitting on the ground, in a dark alley, under a fire escape with his back leaning on a wall. He's still wiping his nose, which gets the blood everywhere on his face and makes him look scary, at least in her eyes. But she's already mad, so even though she feels bad for him, she still manages to walk towards him and throws the bag at him.
"Ouch," one of the mineral water bottles just landed on his shoulder, then fell to his lap.
"Those are Jimmy Choo."
He looks up, not saying anything.
"My shoes? The heels you had your vomit all over?!" not getting his response makes her angrier, "Say something!" her throat hurts so bad.
"You're welcome," he opens the bottle and drinks all the water inside. Then he opens up another bottle and takes two pills of aspirin, "Look, I'm sorry about your shoes. I didn't know they were there, I was really sick. I'll take them and clean them if you want, or buy you a new pair if you ask me to."
Liv feels stupid for what she did. How could she do that to someone who just helped her?
"Am I forgiven now?" he asks.
"Look. I'm so sorry, just forget about those shoes. And I'm sorry about that bottle, I shouldn't have done that. I haven't even thanked you, so... thank you," she looks at his bloody face, "Oh no, I forgot the tissue. I'll be back-"
"No no no, you don't have to."
"You got blood all over your face, just a minute."
"Hey," he stops her, "it's okay. I'll be fine," he stands up, leaning against the wall. "Just go home, it's late. Don't worry about me."
"Did he broke your nose?"
The guy laughs a little, "No," he continues wiping the blood on his face.
She looks at his hand, "Here," she takes his bloody hand and pour some water on it. She starts wiping the blood off his hands with the corner of her coat.
"Whoa-wait! That's Burberry."
"Yeah, I know."
"You're mad about your Jimmy Choo, and now you're wiping my blood with Burberry?"
"It was Emily 85 rose gold. I don't think I can still find it in the sto--wait, you can tell it's Burberry?"
"Why does it sounds like a gun to me?" he ignores her question.
