Layla
It's been hours. The sun is slowly beginning to set and still no sign of the very man who rushed out those very doors before me. Relentless and fearful, I decide not to remain indoors for the greater portion of a perfectly created day. I change into a bundle of warm clothes, leaving behind plentiful amounts of food and water for a fast asleep Sugar. And as I grab hold of the necessities, I emerge out into the cold, shivering as snow continues to fall and stick to the ground. I keep my identity under the radar, not wishing to grasp any attention during such a time.
London is truly awake as everyone scurries along the streets, impatient for the hour to hit midnight as they rage through the shops and markets. Couples walk hand in hand, sharing a kiss, capturing a photo, engrossed in one another. The sight before pains me as I glance down at my silent phone as it remains unanswered. At this point, I don't know where I'm going as I continue my journey, stopping at a moderately busy coffee shop to gain some warmth. I order a single cup of espresso, thanking the server as I take a seat in the very back corner. Suddenly, I notice an incoming call, sighing in defeat as I realize that it's actually Grace and not the man I hoped it to be.
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Cannes | H.S
RomanceShe's America's sweetheart. He's a world famous musician, translating personal heartbreak to golden lyrics. A serendipitous encounter along the coast of Cannes sparks a passionate and unexpected romance that will leave the world in awe. "I loved yo...