Sealed With A Kiss | n.s

✧ prologue ✧

✧･ﾟ*✧

Eleven am has always been my favourite time of the day... Because I get to see you.

Seeing you always puts me in a good mood. It makes my heart race, even if I don't know your name, and you don't know mine.

I've never dared to go up to say hi.

I look at you and I already feel my heart thrumming, my mind going into an overdrive. Who knows what'll happen to my fragile heart when I talk to you, face to face, up close.

I could never live with myself if I made a complete fool out of myself. Which, knowing me and my anti social arse, I'm very sure I will.

I sigh inwardly, wondering to myself if I could ever, one day, just pick up my apparently very manly ball of sacks and just go up to talk to you. Even if it's just a simple hi.

I want to get to know you.

You, with your tousled dark brown hair, which goes past your shoulders, thick and lustrous and curly. Not to mention your beautifully sculpted face and sharp jaw that frames your neck.

You, with your signature black skinny jeans that always adorn your legs that go on for miles, and black denim jacket that clings to your muscular upper body.

You, with your broad shoulders and chest which are littered with tattoos that I want to take the time to learn about while I trace my finger over each little line.

You, with your hands that dance over the strings of the guitar so smoothly. I wish that I could hold your hand for real.

You, with the dark forest green eyes, so intense, yet so honest that makes me weak in the knees. Your eyes which are so full of life yet so uncertain. Eyes that are the beacon of hope in the dreariest of days.

As I move closer to the window that looks out to the quiet street, a wide smile grows on my lips when I see you walking down the street. I start to get giddy with excitement as you walk up to your usual spot, just across the street and opposite our little, run-down shop.

You place your guitar down on the ground, taking it out from the case and sling the strap over your shoulder.

You open up the case, placing it by your feet, together with your drumming pad.

I sit on the little ledge of the shop by the window, even if it's only meant for displaying items. I watch you, always excited for the mini setlist you always sing, even if it's the same songs everyday.

I love your voice, even if it's muffled through the glass window.

I love your setlist. It's obvious you take the time to line them up properly, albeit it only being five songs.

You always start off with an indie rock, Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High by Arctic Monkeys— a subtle way to showcase your individuality.

Then you'll move on to R&B,  to showcase your versatility. It's A Man's World by James Brown. An absolute classic.

Third will be classic rock, to show case your vocal range. You sing The Chain by Fleetwood Mac, another classic, which I adore. We may not know each other, but I'm so glad our music tastes are the same.

The last two songs, you take popular pop songs and make it your own. Ultralight Beam by Kanye West, followed by Just a Little Bit of your Heart by Arianna Grande. I'm thankful you don't go down the usual route of singing typical pop songs like Ed Sheeran. No offence to Ed though, I absolutely love his music. Anyway, I just think that by doing so, it makes you even more special than you already are.