Braeden was out on an early jog, his usual jog that is, and decided to go through a curved street he always saw while heading towards the liquor– his resting destination. He was jogging when he noticed that all the houses looked nothing how the others were down in the usual street he jogged. They looked posher, and they all looked different to each other, but they were all so big. He noticed one house in particular. It was less dramatic than the others. It was a simple white house. Yeah, it still had about 4 balconies and about six stairs to the front two doors, but it was very modernly old. It was nice. He was in awe when he noticed that one of the windows behind one balcony had a huge moral of Arctic Monkeys, which was only his favorite band, with his ultimate man crush Alex Turner. He stared at the window, his eyes flicking to the colorful swirls the letters had, his smile was touching both of his ears, his dimples were deep, which meant he was blown away until he noticed the window opening.
He tried to look away, but when he caught sight of the girl, he was left motionless. The first thing he noticed was how her hair was blocking her eyes, that damn wind was fighting against him. He was waiting for her to fix the strand covering the one thing he was most intrigued to know, and he smiled when she softly removed her jet black hair.
Braeden loved her eyes.
They were a soft brown, nothing more and nothing less. He smiled, his cheeks getting flushed as the girl took sight of him. A notepad was on her hands, a pencil on the other.
"Hi." Braeden heard, his eyes blinking furiously at the soft voice.
It was beautiful to him.
"You're new in the neighborhood?" she asked. She was setting up a desk she had outside, placing the notepad on top of it. She started shuffling around tin cans with paintbrushes and colored pencils and put a big brown box that she grabbed from the floor on the edge. Braeden didn't reply. His eyes still focused on her figure.
"So let me guess," she started, placing her elbows on the edge of the balcony, her hands cupping her face.'So beautiful,' Braeden thought. "You're just running around checking up people's houses, taking note which house will be your next victim of robbery?" she blurted out, her eyes fixed on Braeden's green eyes. Her smile grew as she noticed that Braeden was turning pale, the pink from his cheeks going away.
"N-no no. I-I only came to run a few miles around this area an–, I'm sorry, I'll go." Braeden stuttered, turning around ready to run back out of the marvelous street.
"I won't call the cops if that's what you're running away from. I'll let it slide. The cute ones always get a warning." she teased, her laughter making Braeden jerk his head around and flash a smile at her. He was just turning his gaze back around when he noticed he was inches away from a trash bin and in just seconds he was hugging the bin, falling onto the floor with the bin clung over his arms.
"Shit, shit, shit," he mumbled, his cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson. Why did his clumsiness decide to make a special appearance at this moment? He hated his coordinational skills.
"Might want to keep your eyes on the direction you're walking at next time. Don't want that face of yours to get bruised." She yelled from the balcony.
Her smile was addictive; the crinkles near her eyes, soft and telling, her shy dimples barley making an appearance, and those eyes, damn those eyes.
Braeden swore that for a moment he thought she was an angel, a literal fucking angel.
"You know, for a rich girl, you sure have a lot of bravery to talk to a criminal." He smiled as he let out those words, his voice loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
She looked down, her hand coming up to move a piece of her hair away from her face, "What can I say? I'm one of the toughest guys around here. Keeping a watch on my neighborhood." She winked, causing Braeden to smile that dimple on which followed by a sparkle in his eyes.
He turned back around, starting to feel this tingle in his stomach as he was walking away, feeling her eyes still on him.
"I'm Braeden by the way!" he smiled, turned around once more to find her waving him off, and he waved back.
"And I'm Paige."
As soon as he placed his hands on his sides, Paige hollered, "Bra, the criminal. Got it."
A thumbs up from Paige and a small giggle from Braeden ended his journey to the new street.
He made a mental note to run down that street every morning.
So it continued. Braeden running down the beautiful hidden street, slowing down near Paige's house– which was not creepy at all. He'd always see her on the balcony, or out on the fountain cleaning out the feathers the birds left behind.
Casual conversations were a usual thing by the third day he ran by. Until December 13th.
On that day Braeden told Paige he had a secret. But he wasn't going to tell her yet.
"You'll know when I'll be able to tell you. It'll be maybe two years from now or even one year. My mom will call you, and that's how you will know it's time. I'll be able to explain everything and some stuff. You're a great friend, but I just can't tell you now."
That was all Braeden said, and Paige understood.
They have been talking since January 13 of the previous year, which will be nearly two years in just a month. In those two years, they started going to Manchester University, and that's where she was introduced to Dylan, Cole, and Danny. Everything was going great.
Until one day when Paige and Braeden had a fight.
