sweaty palms. [writer's block]

one

el.

Underneath the city rain and pouring lights of Chicago was the beating heart of Elizabeth Blue, her last name being quite the contrary to her aflame spirit. Currently, a light drizzle had become more of a downpour, and the idea for heels not so impressive. At the end of the block stood a cafe, seen through the thick fog dragging down from clouds like thick ink. With an empty stomach and the need for warmth, she used what twisted courage she had and got out from under the stretch of covering that had taken the role of her seven minute protector.

ni.

Two tired eyes had been reminded to return home after a long day, and be rewarded with the undeniable delight of sleep. Prints of tables and hands pressed against the face of a boy who looked as though a bad tattoo artist had gotten hold of him. His hair was a golden color, and from first glace, seemed to be the brightest thing in the room of this dull yet homey cafe. He walked draggingly to the door, and opened it with a sting on his fingers. A sobering cold perked up his muscles and bones, and finally, the sweet aftermath of soaking rain.

A young girl with a laugh echoing in his brain of the past smiled politely as his startled expression turned a deep crimson. He smiled politely back.

He noticed her bare toes soaked through and through.

“Nice shoes,” said the nervous boy with a head.

“I decided running was the bigger priority,” breathed the simple girl with a heart.

They stared for a minute, admiring one another's beauty with the thought of loneliness.

"Well,” He cleared his throat in hopes of taking away some bundled nerves. “you should probably get inside, looks like you need it," His long sleeve shirt softly brushed past her and out the door.

Niall knew that he could make her remember. He believed that love could never be locked up forever in the darkest corners of the mind, only hidden in a perfect condition. He had faith. A stupid smile surfaced from his thoughts before throwing on his hood, readying himself to dash through the pouring water; and in that moment, a forgotten inspiration was found.

hope you guys enjoy, loads of ideas for this book.x

-anna & angela