The Girl With A Synthetic Halo

Katharine was born in 1898 in the late Victorian era. She was literally dropped off at the doorstop of an orphanage. She doesn't know her birthday, she doesn't know her parents, and she doesn't know her last name. She doesn't even know her ethnicity. All she knows is that she stopped aging sometime in the 1920's. The mafia attempted to murder her and her love, but they only succeeded in taking her love, not her life. Almost a century later, Niall falls into her life. A descendant of her true love, and his spitting image, and after she finds out what she is, he becomes some one she needs to protect with her life.

A/N: So my first story on here, and I don't really know where I'm going with it. But Give me opinions, and I don't think that 'The Girl With A Synthetic Halo' is accurate, because her halo is real. So ideas??(:

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2. A Familiar Face.

I must admit, I make quite a bit of money. More than I need, anyways. I don't need to eat often, which I figured out after I realized I couldn't die. I'm a private investigator, and I'm damned good at it. I'm good at reading people, and not being seen. So after a long day of trying to find out if this woman's hubby was cheating on her or not, I decided to go home and make hot cocoa, after all, it's pretty chilly in Portland in October. I reached my tidy apartment and unlocked all the locks (there are 3, paranoid? No, just careful), then I tossed my bag onto the couch and started heating the tea kettle on the stove. Then I made my way to the living room and plopped onto the couch beside my bag.

I can remember being happy. I mean, really happy. It was when I was with him. With his blue eyes that could see right through me, and whatever walls I put up. With his goofy smile and warm voice assuring me that everything would be okay. Boy, was he wrong. Jack, was his name. Accidental love is always the best. I can see now how the head of the Mafia would have fallen in love with me, as well as Jack. At the time I had short auburn hair, styled in perfect finger waves, and my green eyes twinkled with curiosity and, to be honest, smugness. I had womanly figure, but lean at the same time. I was the envy of the club. Now, I have dull brown hair that spirals down to my waist, and the life that was in my eyes is no longer there. And it has just occurred to me that I am a shell of a woman. 

My as widen as I realize that I have been living in fear, when in fact, I am as invincible as it gets. I have made a total waste of almost a century. I could have gotten revenge. I could have learned more, experienced it all, and instead, I hid. Like a coward. And I had the one trait I despise the most in people: Cowardice. What have I become? Where is my passion? The whistle of the kettle interrupts my epiphany. Oops, forgot about that. Then I do something I haven't done in almost 100 years. I giggle. Then it turns to a laugh, and before I know it, I'm on the ground in hysterics, laughing my ass off, as literally as possible. Then I come back to my senses, but I know there is something in me that there hasn't been for a long time, and that is purpose.  A reason. Then I remember the damn tea kettle. I pick my self up and make my way to my little-used kitchen and I click the burner to 'off''. But I pour the water out, because suddenly, I don't have the urge for cocoa anymore. Suddenly I want to go out.

I take my hair out of the braid that it's been in all day and let the curls hang down my back. Then I go to the mirror and lightly apply some mascara. I toss on some skinny jeans and Ugg boots, then I give myself the once-over. With a slight nod to myself, I lock up and head to the nearest pub.

Bailey's Taproom is the name, and it was the closest to my apartment. I go in, order a beer, flash my I.D,  and take my first drink of alcohol since the prohibition. I must have gotten a disgusted look on my face, because a voice that I thought I'd never hear again says "First time drinking a beer?". I turn around and almost drop my beer, because standing in front of me was Jack, the mortal who's dead body I held in the desert more than 90 years ago.

 

(A/N: Soooo more ideas? I was happy that I actually got replies last time, so please keep it up. ^.^ And it's slow for now-ish but it should pick up soon loves! Hahaha so I'm basing this guy off of Niall, but it's just his look and name, and maybe personality. A little. And I might bring in Zayn or Harry or somebody (: Maybe Louis, this story could use some carrot loving. (: Ahaha and if you haven't caught on, Katharine is an angel. Put on this earth for a reason, I'm just not sure what yet.

Much love,

alyisforeveryoung <3

PS: FEEDBACK GUYS :DDD)

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