Darla's

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I really dont like this too much but oh well :S I tried writing it in thrid person, but I really suck at that....

NOT EDITED

dedicated to tarynakita just for being enthusiastic about this story :)

ps. remeber, this is a short story, so it will be somewhat fast pace, but not too much. Like, they wont be all over each and confessing their love within a week or something. But they meet off the bat, so...ya... AND keep in mind, Cameron is an artist, so dont go calling him girly, because everything is from a painter/sculpter/photographer/ect. point of view.

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~Audrey's POV~

People have a habit of trying so desperately hard not to stare, that they make it even more blatant. At least, that’s what I’ve noticed.

I could practically feel their eyes burning holes into me, studying my every move. It was nothing new; in fact it was completely expected.

My small designer ballet flats barely made a sound as I walked down the dimly lit street. The shoes were one of my mothers many purchases, flown in from a former client in Paris. They were tight and digging into my skin, but I’ve learned to bear it. Pain in beauty she would say.

For the past six years, at exactly 10:00 PM, I would leave the grand manor I called home, and take the familiar route to Darla’s Coffee Shop. It was a quite little alcove, tucked away where people rarely came across it.

I felt as if the whole town knew my schedule by now, seeing as I could see little girls peeking out of their bed room windows to get a glimpse at me.

As if I’m a circus animal.

 I couldn’t possibly be mad though. They only looked on because they liked that I resembled their beloved play toys. Many consider me lucky, whereas I view it much, much differently.

I pushed open the door, a soft ding sounding out. The shop was mostly empty as usual. It was too late for most people, and still too early for night owls.

“The usual, darling’?” Nora asked, her aged face smiling politely. She was one of the select few who would directly talk to me, and even that took several years. My parents intimidated the others, or my looks would make them uncomfortable. I couldn’t imagine the feeling of a life like doll watching you as you talked, then talking back. It’s a horror movie plot at best.

I nodded in reply, making my way to my usual little table. It was secluded in the back corner. I didn’t need a constant reminder I didn’t fit in.

The worn tiles beneath my feet were such a contrast to the dark polished hardwood at LeNoir Manor. It’s odd how one minor detail bring so much more warmth.

I sat in the chair patiently, my eyes shifting to each little detail of the room, from the wilting lilies on the window ledge, or the dusty bookshelves.

My parents would surely disapprove of my escape.

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~Camerons POV~

I was a sucker for old fashion shops. Always have been, always will. There was just something that drew me right in, with their artistic feel, and vintage appearance.

My faded blue truck squeaked loudly as I parked in front of ‘Darla’s Coffee Shop’.  

It’s hard to find gems like that anywhere these days. Now it’s all modern café’s, with lame titles like ‘Mean Bean, or ‘Holy cup’.

The second I walked in, I took a deep breathe, the smell of the delicious brew nearly seeping through the pores of the walls. A grin tugged at my lips. A diamond in the ruff.

It wasn’t surprising that only a handful of people were occupying the tables. Not a lot of people appreciated coffee at this time.

“Can I help you?” A kind voice asked, and the voice surely fit the person. She was a sweet looking old woman, wrinkles adding character to her smiling face. I could easily point out her laugh lines.

Being an artist, I can’t help but notice the little things, and the feel they give off. It was art 101.

“I’ll just have a black coffee, thank you” I answered, handing her the pocket change I had been carrying around.

As I waited, I scanned the room, debating on where to sit.

And that’s when I saw her.

Her pale blond hair cascading down, looking like it was painted with the finest paint you could by. The color of her skin seemed just as impossible, the flawless ivory was something I had never seem on an actual person before, and her pouty lips looked like they were naturally rose, not smeared by cheap lipstick.

But the one thing that stopped me in my place was her eyes.

Were they blue? Or green? Or grey? Maybe a touch of yellow? All I knew was that they were bright and bold, and framed innocently by thick eyelashes.

A painting come to life, surely. You can’t blame me for being frozen.

My hand twitched towards the canon camera, lazily hanging around my neck.

There was no way I could recreate her, not even close. But I couldn’t forget that face. There were so many ideas swirling in my mind. So many pieces waiting to be made.

Would she mind? I thought, a quick picture couldn’t be too much of a bother.

“Audrey” The barista reclaimed my attention, but not fully, as my eyes still drifted back to the fragile girl, “Your tea is ready”

She looked up then, a placid look on her face as she gracefully headed to the counter.

I must look like a mad man, staring after her this way.

Audrey, I tested in my mind. It was such a classic name. It fit her vintage, doll like beauty.

“Sir” I heard the woman call. I turned to her to see her holding out my order.

Audrey was already sitting back down at her corner table.

I smiled, thanking her as I took my coffee. The elderly woman leaned slightly over the counter to my confusing.

“Don’t be embarrassed, she’s a pearl” She whispered, eyes looking pointedly at Audrey, “I’ve never seen anyone sit with her though”

Never? That can’t be true. Who in there right mind would pass on a chance to talk to her?

Was she horrid?

Maybe she wasn’t pleasant to be around. I couldn’t even convince my self of that.

Well, what are you waiting for? Go sit with her.

Who says she would want me there?

Doesn’t hurt to try.

As if moving on their own accord, my feet drift towards Audrey. Stopping just in front of her table.

She looked up at me, letting me experience the full force of her eyes.

“Hi” I managed, waiting for her to be confused. Nothing.

Not a single emotion crossed her face.

“Hello” Her melodic voice answered.

“Is it ok if I sit with you?” I asked, replaying all the scenes of rejection that could happen in my mind.

To my surprise, she gave a curt nod.

“My names Cameron, or Cam or whatever. I’ve never been called anything but cam though, I guess my friends aren’t very good at nicknames, well there was this one ti-“ Thank the lord she interrupted my mindless rambling. I was nervous if it wasn’t obvious.

“Audrey”

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