The Wildflowers

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE:

Wind tore through the ominous air, rattling the branches of the thick trees. The whistling from the ripping wind could easily make anybody shake in their boots and make their skin crawl. The rain was relentless, and it pounded and drenched anything in the storm's path. The old clock that stood in the towns square ticked on. It was well past two in the morning.

Nobody in their right mind would be walking around at this time of night, let alone in this weather during the day. While the towns people slept snug in their warm beds and dry homes, a single person wandered the streets, squinting at the street signs through the dense rain and dark.

The street lights did no justice in the freak storm. A book store at the end of street was all the runaway needed to know where she was. Standing right in front of the glass door you could barely see the shelves and shelves of books. The girl of the night crouched down and pulled the hidden key from underneath the welcome mat out. Her shaking hands slipped the key into the locked knob and pushed it open in desperation.

A strong blast of heat welcomed her skin as she walked in, making her face tingle. A dreadful chime sounded along with the squeaking of soggy footsteps along the black hardwood. Towards the very back of the book store was a door that read "employees only" in the day, but tonight it was just a door that led to a spare room and staircase.

Up the carpeted steps the girl went. She walked through the apartment above the store in silence. Outside, the rain and wind carried on, rattling the windows inside. The glass was pelted with freezing droplets and shook with violent gusts. All the doors were left ajar except for one, the one where she was heading. On the other side of the door was a sleeping figure beneath the sheets. The light switch was flicked on and the girl's rugged appearance became known in the light. "Zayn," she hissed, tearing through his dresser for clothes.

Her rucksack was tossed on the ground, the contents inside useless and soaked. In the middle drawer she found a shirt and began peeling out of her wet jacket and shirt that clung to her skin. The boy in the bed stirred, his vision blinded momentarily from the brightness coming from the bedside lamp. A blurry figure stood directly in front of his bed, their back turned and bare.

"Who-who's there?" He called out groggily, sleep trying to overcome his relaxed body.

The girl turned around, pulling the shirt over her damp head. "Good you're up," she smiled, pulling her dripping hair out from underneath the warm, dry shirt.

"Sophie?" Zayn gasped, sitting up from his unkempt bed. The sheets fell to his waist and revealed a toned, tattooed chest.

"Zayn?" She mocked his surprise, digging around for a pair of pants. The bottom drawer was filled with them, but she grabbed one with a drawstring. Getting out of her tight black jeans was a challenge, and after they were off her skin was still damp.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his senses and muscles awakening the longer his eyes were open. His vision was clear now and could see his girlfriend perfectly. She had no make-up on and her hair was soaked and was sticking to her body.

"I've gotten into a bit of trouble," Sophie said simply. She crouched down and stuffed her old clothes into her bag.

"What kind of trouble? And why is your hair pink?" He questioned. Zayn had so many questions to ask her, but didn't know where to start. His head was swirling with confused thoughts. He still felt like he was in his dream.

"I needed a new look," she replied, finally turning to face him, "Do you like it?" Zayn nodded his head twice. "Just kidding, the color isn't permanent. It should come out by next week. Nice weather we're having, yeah?" She laughed, staring out the window to change the subject.