Throbbing Veins

Chapter 1 - STOCKHOLM

I'm ashamed to share my shit with her, but at the same time I don't want to leave her completly out. That's why I try to be as ambiguous as I can, to share with her my struggle without letting her in too much and scare her away. That's why I've been occupying and distracting my mind with all the good stuff: present company included.

"Ok, misterious guy, have it your way!"

Her petite form is so sweet every time she goes on her toes to place the boxes on the shelf. Even tho she's already using a ladder, she can't reach it unless she tiptoes on that ladder. The snowy-white snikers she's wearing give her a charm that only her bare foot could overcast. Her skin-tight jeans expose the outerline of a small but very plumb behind. As she gets on her toes, her bottom raises up and down. 

It's almost like it's waving, expecting a military salute from my own nether parts. 

*Chuckle* 

I amuse myself on my own thoughts.

"What's so funny?" once again she awakes me from my daydream. 

Funny how she can make me lose contact with reality yet bring me back on Earth with just a little chirp.

"You!" this time I really say it, with a mocking smile.

"Eh? What do you mean?" she replies, as she looks at me while placing one hand on her waist.

"Hahaha. You shortie! You look like a naughty little kid launching a silent attack oh his mom's cookie jar!"

"Say what? Haha! Hey, don't make fun of my hight! Don't you know that good things come in small packages?" she winks at me, in a teasing act.

"Haha. That's not what she said!" I shamelessy add a naughty reference, while shrugging my shoulders.

"Haha. Ok, mister. Why don't you get up here instead, if you have so much spunk?" she points at me, while looking like I wroged her.

"No, no, shorty. You're doing such a fine job. You rock, baby girl!" I respond, as I do a rock sign hand.

"That's so cringe. Give me another box, moron!" she says with a smile.

I do love her assertiveness. She always likes to be in the front line. This shorty is not much of a damsel in distress. Some girls let the guys take the lead, lightly assisting them on the side. But not her. She's the one picking up a direction, draging me after her, leading up the charge. I can't say I'm normally a pushover, but this girl could make me follow her smilingly into the deepest parts of hell. 

And most people still call this love? Damn it! My rational brain sure is all bark and no bite! Here I am, looking down of people that do the same thing as I am!

This feeble looking being, with tanned skin, straight and long black hair, brown eyes, thick upper lips and thin slender body, has cast a spell of silance over my rational brain. 

Sometimes I wonder if she really is a Witch.

"Ouch!" she lets out a whimper.

"What?" I snap out of my thoughts and I see her loosing her balance. 

"Aaah!" she screams, while I catch her as she falls down from the ladder.

"Are you ok?" I say, as I look to see what's the problem, while I lay her down.

Her hand is bloody. She cut her finger in one of those damned boxes. 

I told her to be careful many times. Those boxes have a sharp edge to them, if you're not careful you easily can get cut. Even I was close to do just that a few times around.