damn these stories

This is a small collection of stories. I like to write in hand, guess I'm just more old school, so this is what I've come up with. * I apologize for the spelling and grammar, English is my second language (not that I'm very good at grammar in any language at all, hah)


3. 3.

Only a few empty seats were in sight when he made his way onto the bus. He figured it would be rather better to sit next to a strange girl than some creepy-looking old woman. He made his way to her seat, studying her while she looked out the window. That was one girl who wasn't afraid to stand out. It looked good on her though, made her look like a fairy princess. Her hair was pink like bubblegum. Under a mustard-colored blazer she had a colorful, green shirt on. She wore a black, high-waist skirt and striped, purple tights. And big, black, clumsy, workman-boots.

She looked up at him and smiled as he sat down. Her lips shone at him, she had big white teeth, her cheeks were light red and her skin were perfectly clean. Her eyes were grey, but had a sparkle to them that almost made him feel like she probably were a fairy. Her eyelashes were long and black and really gave the light in the eyes real opportunity to shine. Only when he sat down did he hear that she were humming under her breath. And an unusual melody, he couldn't identify at all, and her voice sounded like sweet butterflies fluttering around a moonlit lake when pairing.

He knew he wasn't the prettiest himself either. Big green glasses and his never ending collection of ninja turtles t-shirts. Sometimes with jeans, sometimes with sweatpants and his old, now almost ruined, pair of sneakers, that were the same blue color as his eyes. Today he had a long rain jacket on, because mom wouldn't let him leave the house without it, but no rain had fallen yet and he doubted that it even would today, so now he just looked like a fool. A cold fool.

He kicked a little at the seat in front of him, before he looked over at the girl. She smiled as she could see his movement out of the corner of her eyes, but she didn't move or say anything. Instead she just kept staring out the window, still humming and smiling absentmindedly.

He wanted to say something, tell her about himself, ask her about who she was, but the words seemed to slip from his tongue. The way she was smiling at the window and the humming sound of her voice sounded louder as he tried to focus on it, she made him feel unsure of himself. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong there beside her.

She looked at him with that little weird smile on her face. She stopped humming and looked into her eyes with such a strong glare that he felt his pulse quicken.

"Tell me about yourself," she said and her voice seemed to block out any other noise there might be in the bus. Sweet like sugar but that rough end like glass. Something like a fairy, too.

He looked at her for a while, and she kept smiling. He cleared his throat, but was unsure of what to say. He somehow knew she didn't care about his name or where he was going, from where or even why. Nor did it mean anything to her that he had just learned to play guitar or that his favorite food was spaghetti.

"I've always had this dream," he started, not knowing why he said it or whether it somehow was true at all. "that somewhere, someday, somehow, I would meet the one I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. But then I either thought I was crazy or that everyone else had the same dream as me." He looked at her looking at him, not even smiling anymore, but the gleam in her eyes so much more clear now. He smiled weakly and looked away. He wanted her to say something, to answer his dream, but then again he hadn't asked her a question. Maybe he should.

She turned her head away again and looked out the window. "I know what you mean," she said quietly. He could see the emotions flooding through her body and ending up showing on her face. She looked like she wanted to tell him more, but then again they were strangers.

He out his hand over hers, only meaning for it to be a gesture to say I'm sorry, but he got surprised at the warmth of her hand and it started tingling pleasantly in his fingers. She looked down at their hands, a shocked expression on her face, but she didn't ask his to retreat his hand and he didn't want to.

"Sorry," he murmured after a while, without moving his hand and they looked at each other. "Tell me about yourself."

"How about we switch?" she asked, her voice so low he almost couldn't hear it, her eyes shining bright. "I'm clumsy."

"I'm messy," he answered slowly.

"I'm addicted to black boots."

She blushed, looking down at her feet.

"Well, I'm addicted to these shirts." He pointed at his ninja turtle chest. She laughed and he couldn't help but laugh too. Slowly, their hands interlaced with each other, neither of them noticing, having a way too good time laughing.

Time passed by as they talked, not really noticing where they were going or how close they now sat, until suddenly the bus stopped, announcing a stop, and both stood up so quick that their noses touches.

"Sorry," they said, realizing their fingers were still interlaced and let go.

They got of the bus next to each other, but had no clue as to why the other person were standing right there now.

"So," he began slowly, "where are you going?"

"A party by the sea. So, where are you going?" she asked.

"A party. By the sea."

They looked at each other.

Then they laughed. He grabbed her hand again as they headed for the sea, the sun on it's way down and the sound of crashing waves already so clearly. This was the start of something new.

Something like love.

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