He has the purest of hearts and i knew that better than anyone. yet every time i look at him, tears would take shelter in my eyes before rolling down my cheeks, burning my skin.
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"oh so we're like that now? running around, trying to catch somethi...
hey there angels:) so this story is my first actually story that has been written AND published. don't be afraid to point out my mistakes or give me some constructive criticism!! and here's the playlist-
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enjoy, don't forget to comment and vote if you like it<3
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as she walked into the coffee shop, all she wanted to do was cry. cry her eyes out. cry till she loses sight. cry till she forgets.
"hi, uh one.. one cup of americano please." she says, holding back the tears, although through her tone you could clearly tell something was wrong. very, very wrong.
"alright m'am, please take a seat and i will bring it to you as soon as it's ready." she quickly thanks him and heads for the farthest corner, over by the window.
she couldn't see where exactly she was going, nor could she see if she is even going towards a table but that didn't matter, her head was occupied with something else.
as soon as she finds a table she takes seat and makes a deep breath. nothing, nothing has ever caused her to feel so damn upset. nothing could've ever stopped her from being... her. what made up her entire personality- charming, sweet, mysterious and mainly loving and forgiving.
but looks like that was about to change, for the better or for the worse.
as the man served her coffee she couldn't help but try to observe her surroundings. she's never really been to this place before. she's seen it all the time but never bothered to actually come here and try anything or let alone go here constantly.
the first thing that caught her eye was the design and color scheme. it appears to be quite dark but very peaceful. it's like a typical english autumn mood, or at least that's what she associates it with.
she tried to calm herself by observing the simplest of things, such as the one she just pointed out for herself.
the second thing would be the people. in this particular moment, they look so occupied with their own business. she never really payed any attention to such things before, only in some isolated moments that she can recall even know. but this, this feels different. this feels almost special. as if everything that never had any value now has so much, it almost feels like every detail has a meaning to it that nobody knows, but is essential. something so unnoticeable, so small, and yet without it things won't make much sense, feel empty and incomplete.
the third thing would definitely be one person in particular- a boy, about her age, at the other corner of the coffee shop. his hair dark and messy, a few, slightly curly strands lazily dangling right near his eyes. his black turtleneck and light brown coat perfectly fitting what seem to be exactly his style. everything about him seemed well-fit and placed just right.
as if he had things figured out much like she thought she did , until she lost it. lost herself and what seemed like the world around her. things seem bland and nonchalant, like things went black and white.
that might have been one of the reasons as to why he stood out most to her. he seemed to be...
...like her.
looks like crying wasn't the only answer after all.
she felt her shoulders drop and her breathing fall back to a steady pace. nothing was bothering her. focusing on other things really did help.
she pulled out a sketchbook and a small, worn out 2H pencil and started sketching. michael never knew about this, but if there's one thing no one can take away from her- it's art. her art. the art in her mind that she creates when it all overflows.
sketching and painting keeps her alive, and, well, you could say that's something no one can ever take away from you, no matter how fatal their absence is in your life.
sharp jawline. piercing blue eyes and an accurate, perfect nose. plump lips and a cup of coffee in his hands, and the portrait is done.
if only there was a way to bring feelings to life the way she brought people's appearance onto a page. only here, sadly, she was not equipped with anything useful to help her,, you know,, feel.
