The Storm Between Us (REWRITING)

Introductions

she finished setting up the candles so they had more light, she had even given stranger a blanket to cover up since she doubted any of her small clothes could fit over his head.

he sat close to the door on the floor at first, which made her feel bad and made him sit on the couch. the first hour was filled with awkward silence, until she began writing in the limited light.

until his voice brought her out of the world, "what are you writing?" he asked, peering at her from his spot on the couch. she sat on the other side, facing him, her journal on her lap as she hunched over. she suddenly sat up straight, looking at him.

"uh nothing," she said at first, it was her usual response. "i mean it's just a story." she corrected the rude reply.

"about?" he dragged out, raising an eyebrow. in the small amount of light they had she could tell he had a pretty attractive face. not one she would normally go for, she wasn't for the tattooed hard looking guys. she normally fell for warm book boys.

"i only have a few pages." she mumbled self consciously.

then he said something every writer hated, "could i read it?" when she gave him a crazed look he smiled slightly. "it's boring and besides i'll tell you what i think."

that's the scary part, the thought came, what if it was terrible?

she ignored the pessimistic thought and slowly handed him her journal. he flipped to the first page, it was tortuous watching him silently. she wanted to tell him why she wrote it like that or this.

he actually read it, taking in her words, even after he finished and handed her the journal he didn't say anything for a moment. this only caused her to feel more uneasy.

"it's not what i expected," he said at first but didn't give her time to question. "you introduced it as if it would be a silly romance but you turned so quickly that honestly i would read it when you finished. what inspired it?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"i just kind of thought of it during one storm. i also got tired of reading some of the romances, i was told by one of my old english teachers 'write what you want to read'." she shrugged with a slight tint on her cheeks.

"well it's good rapnunzel." he said, the name causing her to realize they didn't even know each other's name.

"Esmeralda," he looked at her strange, "my names Esmeralda. but please Esme." she said with a small smile.

"Sebastian, put Bash is preferred." he offered as well. "I think i like rapnunzel better." he lightly said.

a hesitant laugh left her lips, "well still, if we're going to be stuck here together for a night we might as well know each other's name."

Sebastian was quiet for a moment before turning to face her, "alright, let's play a game. i'll ask you a question, you answer then ask me one, and on." he grinned.

a faint nod was given, the game would pass some time and give her time to figure out how they'd sleep.

"how old are you?"

"20, how old are you?"

"23, why writing?"

"something i've always loved, why tattoos?"

"same as your writing, just more visible. how long have you lived here?"

"entire life, you?"

"two months, do you often let strangers stay at your apartment?"

"nope, do you often stay at strangers apartments?"

"depends," his answer made her pause but he continued, "are you afraid of me?"

she thought of her answer for a moment, "as i would be of any stranger, i don't know you." she said loosely. "why do you have bruises?"

it was his turn to pause, glancing away from her. "fights, why don't you have any pictures of family?" he quickly got off her question.

she felt her stomach twist, this always came up but she still wasn't use to answering it. "don't have any, what fights?" she did the same as him.

his stormy eyes stared into her brown ones. "the physical kind, thought writers were smart?"

"is that your question?" she said

"is that yours?"

they didn't speak for a moment, looking at each other. as if trying to figure each other out. both with questions on their tongues, something about the storm wanted them to spill their souls out. the chance of seeing each other was limited, that's all people wanted right? to be able to open up with no boundaries and not have a fear of being connected to the person. to pour the words in their minds out to let the public see.

"writers aren't intelligent at all, they're mad, sad, crazy, and everything else. they put their soul on paper and allow everyone to see the madness inside. they're stupid, trying to show everyone and trying to find someone that will understand the way they feel. because that's all that we want, is to find someone that will understand the madness." she breathed out, ending her rant.

Sebastian didn't speak for a moment longer, nodding. "your question."

"what?" she looked at him with her eyebrows pulled together.

"what's your question?"

"what tattoo is your favorite?" she stuttered out quickly.

he thought for a moment, he pushed the blanket off, turning slightly to show her his side. there was a tattoo of a smashed cage and a small bird on top of it. the cage had vines and things growing in between the bars. "even though the bird escaped he'll always go back because the cage was all he knew. even though it's destroyed and has new things growing on it."

she couldn't help as her fingers trailed across the tattoo, listening to his words. she wasn't the one for tattoos but she loved it. the meaning behind the tattoo. her eyes flickered up to look at his, meeting them.

"where's you family?" he asked in a quiet tone.