Wish On A Shooting Star

So much for not feeling. So much for being an adult. So much for being cold. Then he walked in, suit and all- acting like he cared. Like all others. But maybe unlike them, he was here to stay.


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She sat on a bench, right outside metro. No one was around; it was the middle of the day. The rain was pouring down on her, soaking her from head to toe. Yet, there she sat, still as though she was lifeless, barely breathing. Suddenly a car rushed passed her, spraying water all around and she broke. 

Hot tears trailed down the girl's face rapidly, the only trace of warmth on her body. In the entire silence of her environment, her sobs were the only thing to be heard. The hidden emotions, all wanting to burst out came tumbling down with those tears as she just sat there, her body moving as if an earthquake had surrounded her. 

"Excuse me, ma'am-" a low, gentle voice said as a hand was placed on her shoulder. She looked up at the person. She knew him. But he didn't. "Are you okay? Is everything alright?"

For her, it might as well had been a dream come true. But at this moment in life, she had reached the point where life had come to a unnerving equilibrium. She looked at him, his sharp, blue-green eyes, concern clouding them. 

"Are you- you know what? Look at me, and take a wild guess. See what you can tell. Am I okay? Is everything alright? What are the chances?" She said in a harsh tone, her eyes narrow, a frown on her face. She hated her position so much it was almost provoking another mental breakdown.

Snot was running down her nose, her eyes were red, her hair- drenched and sticky, her clothes the same.
She was a mess.

And there he was, dressed in a black blazer with white shirt, his Rado watch glistening slightly as he held his black umbrella over her.

There was no response from him as he just stood there, looking at her. Straight in the eyes.

"No. Mr. Cumberbatch. I, am not okay. Everything, is not alright. I am in the middle of fucking breakdown so leave me alone and I won't dirty your pure, angelic heart... mind... with my anger... just... go away, and I won't annoy you." she spat furiously.

There was a moment of silence, and then a chuckle. 

"I'm not pure and angelic, ma'am."

"What's up with that 'ma'am', huh?  You don't even know me, why the bloody, respectful 'ma'am'? Never asked for it, and I never got it. I try to earn it and yet I don't get it so you don't go 'ma'am'-ing me, son." She replied as she stood up, away from his umbrella and all the gender role-ic shit he was doing. Her hands were clenched in fists as a new set of tears rolled down her eyes, burning them. 

He just stared at her, looking unsure what to do. Then he suddenly lunged forward and pulled her close. A car horned loudly as it rushed by, splashing water over her as the driver yelled expletives. 

She couldn't believe it. She would have been dead meat, had he not pulled her in. Few minutes earlier, she wanted to die, but now, she was just glad to be alive. She stared at his blazer, not daring to look up and face his eyes as they stood under his black umbrella. She felt his warm hand on her cold upper arm and his eyes boring a hole through her head. They were standing- there feet touching- but, less than a hand span apart. Then she finally managed it.

"Thank you, sir." She said, as she looked at him- his eyes- for a split second and averted her eyes, bending her head. He didn't reply and funnily enough, she didn't expect him to.

"How can I repay you?" She asked in small voice. She felt humiliated- but this time, it was her own fault. She shouldn't have yelled at him- he was trying to help. But she couldn't bring herself to say sorry. Her ego would hit rock bottom.

"Come with me to Starbucks." He said, and she nodded meekly. She knew where exactly the Starbucks was. Plus, she didn't have much of a choice herself. So she stepped away from him and started walking with him as she shared the umbrella as a sign of appreciation.

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