Accidentally in Love

(A/N: I'll always have a 'Thought of the day' when I post. Just something I decided to start. It'll most likely have something to do with the chapter.)

Thought of the day

"When I was younger, my mother used to make me hot coco. I thought it was the most delicious thing in the world, and, as I was always eager to taste the smooth creaminess of the foam on the top, I would rush and gulp it down, burning my tongue in the process. It would always be painful, yes, but that hot coco was so delicious, that I didnt even care. I would always go and do the same thing everytime my mother made hot coco, and I never learnt my lesson.

Thats the same way I feel about you. In the end, you never fail to represent the precise reason why my love for you is wrong, however unconditional. That even though we're both in it together, you're always the one who comes out unscathed and unharmed, while I'll host fresh new burns. It's obvious that I'm in love with you. Painfully so. Whenever we're around, I feel my heart speed up, and when you touch me, my skin flushes. I melt under your gaze, and when we're together, my world seems to be complete, and I have absolutely, positively no doubts about who I am. You make me who I am, the person I've always wanted to be.

Maybe this is what love is. Accidental, yet it has a purpose. And maybe thats why we love each other. Because everything about the relationship is so wrong, so hurtful, that it cant help but be so. Thats probably why I love you."

Accidentally in Love -Prolugue

I should never have met him that day. It was a mistake, an obvious mishap that shouldn't have happened. In a series of unfortunate and unscheduled events, we came to know of each others existance. And through those events, I began to feel something for him. A mix between annoyance and a type of anxiety for the moment in time during which we'd be speaking to be over. A wanting for those moments to pass without a hitch so I could move on with my life. My perfect, scheduled, professional time-line that flew by without problems.

He was arrogant, that man. Arrogant and annoying and everything that I could ever hate in a person. He was laid back all of the time. It was silly to hate such a thing, the ability to be calm, but did he have to do it in such a way that was so impossibly infuriating? His cocky smirk appeared in my dreams multiple times, signs that I was going mad from my association with him. I despised everything about him, from his amber-coloured hair and dark-brown eyes, to his ripped jeans and almost-always-untied shoelaces. The idiotic grin he got when he made a mistake but wouldn't fess up, the way the tips of his ears would always turn pink when I showed him up in class and style. Honestly, it would just be fair to say that even though the Bible says to love everyone, I'm sure that The Lord didn't imply bafoons like Landon Kirk. Even the name is enough to make me want to spit up goo and break a punching bag off of its hinges.

The day we met isn't one I can forget. What an awful day it had been. The snow wasn't white and fluffy at all, but gray and slushy, ruining my brown high-heeled boots that I paid a grand-total of $54.67 for. The cold december wind was cold and harsh, cutting through my cherry red Gucci coat that was so ridiculousy priced, that I'm not going to repeat the amount of which I had to pay, in fear of being chastised upon for not spending a sizeable amount of that money on a charity.

I was running late for a meeting that would discuss an upcoming photo spread for the newest issue of Vogue. For me, running late was as uncommon as a blue moon. It almost never happens. That day, my goldfish, Tibbles, refused to cooperate when I tried to clean his tank, so I was forced to miss my bus, therefore having to walk. In New York City, it wasn't a very good investment to have a car because of the crowds, so I didnt own anything more than my electronic skooter that I would use when summer finally did come around.

I was walking fast, my brown boots just barely managing to stay on my stocking-covered foot, when I, inconveniently slipped on a patch of black ice. I had nothing to hold on to! It had to be the most embarrassing thing in the entire world to slip and fall on a busy sidewalk with dozens of people milling around. What would someone do in that situation? I wouldn't know, because that moment never came for me. An arm, muscled and broad, might I add, held onto the small of my back while I regained my footing.

Looing up, I was greeted by him. At the time, I thought he was quiet good looking. HIs hair was mussed up by what could only be gel, and was sticking out at precise points. His eyes had such a contagious, laughing twinkle that I had yet to express in my own eyes that I was forced to smile.

"Thank-you very much sir." I said.

He smiled, or should I say smirked, back. "No problem. I'm Landon Kirk. Just try and keep your arms to yourself next time."

My temper started to boil. As I recalled, he was that one who hung onto me. NOT vice-versa. "I think your mistaken, sir. I was quiet capable of handling the aftermaths of that fall on my own. You were the one to swoop in and try and play hero." At that point in time, I realised how ridiculously strange and, to be quiet frank, creepy it was to have a man you don't know and aren't associated with come in a touch you. Even for the purpose of helping a woman out.

"Listen lady-' he began. I gasped at his manners.

"I beg your pardon!" I said. He continued on as if he hadn't heard me.

"-I believe I just helped you out there by making sure your butt didn't come in contact with the cold ground. Even if you came out and grabbed me. If you aren't thankful, I believe there's still a way you can pay me off."

I harrumphed. Yes, yes, quite immature of my to do, but what did you expect me to do? He was acting like an arrogant know it all. As if I came onto him like some sort of phedophile. Besides, it would have been worse if I had stomped my feet and started complaining like a little 5 year old. Just to point out.

" First of all, I don't like being reffered to as 'lady'. Ma'am would have been acceptable, or you could have asked for my name, which you didn't even do. Second, I don't know who you think you are, but you've got alot of nerve to walk about thinking that I reached out and grabbed onto you when it really was the opposite. I'll admit, you helped me, but if the price to pay for that is having to face your rude manners, I'd rather have faced the humiliation of having to look up while people looked down on me on the ground. And third of all, I dont believe I have to 'pay you off' for anything. I was nothing but polite to you, and I'm going to be nothing but polite when I say goodbye right now. So, goodbye."

He looked down at me with a quizzical stare on his face, but then, after a few moments, he laughed.

He laughed.

I couldn't believe it at first, but then, without a straight thought in my mind, I reached out and slapped him. A sharp, resounding sound that left him cradling his cheek and staring down at me, without a trace of laughter left in my eyes. There was nothing to say. He was dumbfounded, and his stare gave that away.

"That wasn't very polite." he pointed out, as that was probably the only thing that he could manage to say.

"Thats right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm running very late for a very important meeting." I bent down to retrieve my purse, which, in the process of our argument, had been dropped , when I noticed something. His shoelaces on the black converse he was wearing were untied. I turned to leave, wondering why I noticed such a silly thing.

"Hey, what's your name?" I turned around. He was still standing where he was, and althought it was difficult to see his facial expression through the throng of people around and the god-awful snow that was falling, i could make out a smirk. That idiot still thought it was funny!

I don't know what made me do it. Still, to this day, me saying my name to him is a mystery. What would make me do such a thing? But anyhow, I did. I said it. I told him my name.

"Eliza. Eliza Stratsford." And I turned and walked on.

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