Pink Balloons, a silly idea.

She didn't know what else to do. He had done this so many times before, it was getting pathetic.

He didn't know what else to do.He was the one in trouble, again, it just seemed like he couldn't help himself.

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1. Pink Balloons, a silly idea.

She sighed, looking disapproving at him. A collection of pink balloons? She dared to even ask herself what might be next, but to be fair, she had to give him the marks for creativity and imagination, and the fact that he managed to surprise her. Here he was, looking at her with those anticipating eyes, pleading to her. He tried to make himself look casual, placing his hand upon his chin, but he didn’t know how ridiculous he looked.

 

They had chosen to meet in the place where they first met, the place where it had all started. It was in the park, a place where she would go to get lost in the scenery, she always found something relaxing about it, it was a nice place to go whenever she needed a break from work. It hadn’t always been like this, awkward and disappointing, it used to be happier, there used to be whole days full of laughter. Now it was gone, even the bright trees seemed grey. She had so many emotions to show, so much to say. But instead she sat there, silently.

 

It had been a cold day when she first met him. It was raining, hard, and the wind felt like daggers being thrown into her. She had absentmindedly forgotten an umbrella, or something to protect her from the harsh English weather. And then he appeared from the darkness. He was safety wrapped up, with his faded jeans and his tight leather jacket that he wore close to him, tightly secure. He had his head down under a large black umbrella, so she couldn’t see his face. She was heading towards the bus stop, she needed to get home and dry off, the day had been too tiring with bothering with this kind of weather. As she was approaching him, he looked up, and she could see into his eyes, eyes which she now resented for the way they almost melted her heart. He had always struck her with such confidence and pride, like he had just achieved something unbelievable.

‘Hey.’ He said, stopping her dead in her tracks, ‘you look a bit under the weather.’ He gave a sheepish grin, ‘wanna' come under my umbrella?’ he smiled again with a bit of a chuckle, ‘hey, that rhymed.’ She looked at him, dead in the eyes,

‘Didn’t anyone tell you that it’s a bit self centred to laugh at your own jokes?’

‘Didn’t anyone tell you that, “hey, it’s raining outside, you might want to think of bringing an umbrella.”’ She stared at him, the rain coming down even harder, ‘so, I think I’ll ask you again, you need any assistance with the whole rain ordeal?’

‘But...you’re not even walking my way.’ He swivelled round to the same direction she was facing,

‘I am now.’

‘That’s not the point; you're heading in the other direction.’

‘No, I'm past that, in fact, I want to go with the damsel in distress.’

‘I'm not in distress.’

‘But you do look like your drowning.’ There was no point arguing with him, she could tell he was going to be stubborn.

‘But it’s only down the road.’

‘Well, I'm glad you can face accepting help, especially from a man as good looking as myself’ he snickered again,

‘I'm here for the umbrella. Not for you.’

‘Surely you're intrigued though, a man you don't know being so kind.’ she ignored him, even though she was grateful for his umbrellas protection. ‘So what is a young lady like you walking around in the rain alone for?’

‘Work.’ She said, bluntly,

‘And no one to pick you up?’

‘Nope.’

‘No husband, no boyfriend?’ she shook her head, what was he getting to,

‘It's just me.’

‘Huh.’ And like that, it continued, all the way down to the bus stop, in fact, when they got there, they just continued walking, interested in getting to know each other. She didn’t know what it was about him, his boyish charm, his immaturity, she didn’t know, but it just blossomed into something more.

 

She looked at him, into his piercing, intense eyes. He held her gaze strongly.

 

The first time he saw her, she was very formal, dressed up in a simple grey suit, her hair tied up sophisticatedly, she looked very posh, but he presumed that she had just came from work. She was holding her jacket up over her neck, trying to avoid some of the cold rain from her face and skin, he couldn’t blame her, it was horrible. He was just going for a walk, he just felt like it was a good night to go out, maybe it was destiny. Who knew? He had space under his umbrella, so that with his boyish charm convinced her to accept his help. Something about her intrigued him; he didn’t know what it was though. They had got to talking, and they really hit it off, and before he knew it, it had blossomed into something more.

 

But the last few months had been rocky, they had had an above average amount of arguments, mostly about the silliest things, like who left out their plate, or who needed to take out the rubbish, silly childish things. He knew most of the times it was his fault though, his immaturity just didn’t allow himself to be serious enough. He didn’t know how or why she bothered with him, it was amazing it had lasted this long. So here he was. Asking for her forgiveness, again. It probably wasn’t the best plan he had had, but he was sort of running out. Pink balloons. Her favorite colour (he hoped), he remembered her buying one of their first proper date, marks for creativity and remembering perhaps? At least he hoped. This time could be it, but that’s what he keeps telling himself every time this happens. This could make or break their relationship. And he was relying on pink balloons. Pink balloons. What a silly idea.

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