Wicked Hearts Desire

Pretty Eyes

If there is something I hate, it's presumptuous people who walk around like they own the place and act like total assholes towards everyone else.

Maybe it's just me....nah. Those kind of people have to be annoying to everyone else as well.

But, as it happens, in my world many people act like that. With wealth comes a certain upper-class elitism that causes everyone around you to suddenly to act differently towards you.

And that's when the trouble starts.

Because, in a world like that......who can you trust? Who can you really rely on? Who's in it for your money and who wants to be around you for who you really are?

Good luck figuring that one out.

As luck will have it, I'm on the wealthier side of the spectrum, if that's what you want to call it. In other words, I'm dirty filthy rich. Thing is, the money isn't really mine. It is, and at the same time it isn't. Strange uh? Well, my entire life I've had enough money to live comfortably, and despite what everyone would have thought I didn't turn out a spoiled little brat. I live nicely off the trust fund my mother left my sister and I after she passed away. I shouldn't have to work a single day in my life if that's what I wanted to do.

Instead I chose the moral high road and decided I wanted to make something of myself instead of sponging off of someone else's heard-earned money. So instead of becoming some high-end socialite who's biggest accomplishment is getting a mani-pedi during the day, I worked a couple of jobs as I put myself through college, and was currently working my ass off to get my Arts degree.

I was an ambitious person, I'll give you that much. But then again I was also artsy, creative and free-spirited. A weird combination when you considered I liked to spend my days outside, perched on a window-sill or on a bench in a park and just sketch away. But my dream had always been to open my own Art Gallery, and be able to showcase all the art of inspired young artists who wished to show the world what they were worth.

Again, highly idealistic and probably hopelessly romantic, but what can a girl do?

So that's why I was currently making my way down a busy London street after having met with a classmate for my Creative Arts class. I was tutoring after hours, mostly because I enjoyed helping people out, specially when it came to their art.

I was done with my afternoon session with a good friend of mine in which I helped him out after encountering some difficulty in finding the necessary inspiration for a joined project we were supposed to turn in the next week.

The world was looking brighter, and rather than feeling bummed about the crowded street I felt rather joyous at the sight of the people around me. It wasn't often I felt at ease in a crowd, and yet here I was, smiling secretively as if my delight in watching people mull around, going about their daily lives and regular chores was something wonderful instead of tedious.

Inside my head I was mentally checking the place for any artistic inspiration. I was quirky like that. It didn't matter where I was. Whenever, wherever. In my head I was watching the light, the angles, the color schemes, schematic composition and the architecture as well the people for any sources of inspiration.

And then Karma struck.

And as the Infinite Universe and Merlin the Wizard would have it, Karma hit me like a fucking freight-train.

I ran into someone.

I know, I know, how cliched.

But this was different.

Let me enlighten you as to why.

Whoever says that when they run into someone and that that someone miraculously saves them from falling by holding onto them, and they end up looking into eachothers eyes.....was lying.

Bull shit.

First of all, half of the time people don't have the reflexes of the amazing Spider Man. Secondly, most people are clumsy and have terrible balance. And finally, and most importantly, most people just don't watch where the fuck they're going.

I consider myself to be a rather nimble and graceful, but even this was beyond my abilities. Falling onto the pavement in a rather unfashionable heap my knees jarred from the impact and my teeth clattered as I bit my lip in an attempt not to cry out from the sharp pain shooting through the palms of my hands. Luckily I still had my bag with me, and my phone was miraculously still in my pocket.

Still, I cursed under my breath and was about to give whoever it was that knocked me off my socks a verbal lashing when a hand appeared in my field of vision. Long, slender fingers that seemed almost feminine in a way, had me furrowing my brow at this seeming act of kindness.

Or maybe he was trying to make up for making me face-plant on the floor.

"Miss....are you all right?" a delightful British voice said.

My wild mane of fiery red hair, that frizzed and curled around my shoulders like I'd jumped out of the Disney movie 'Brave', was blocking my view. With an annoyed huff I bled the few wayward strands from my face only to look up and find myself looking into the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen.

That probably sounded really shallow, but the truth of the matter was that I'd never seen anyone with eyes that intense and penetrating. Like they were looking into your very soul. True, I'd seen some stunning and even soulful eyes every now and then, but never like this.

A deep shade of blue they seemed to be mixed with the purest shade of forest green, causing a swirl of color that took my breath away. At first glance they seemed like the blue-ish steel of a midwinter sky, and then the light would change and the dark blue rim around the iris faded into an even shade of gemstone jade.

"...Hello?" the stranger repeated, drawing my attention from those beautiful eyes to a pair of very kissable lips.

As it turns out the man itself was just as handsome as his eyes. A slight stubble dusted across a strong jawline, cheekbones that seemed etched out of marble and a high forehead were the most prominent features. Chestnut hair framed the aristocratic features, and once I was done ogling him I realized he'd asked me something.

"Yeah.....just peachy" I grumbled, not wanting to let my fall sour my mood but also realizing I'd zoned out pretty much drooling over this stranger standing in front of me.

"I'm terribly sorry. It was my fault" the man said, just as I took a hold of his hand and allowed him to pull me upright.

"Damn right it was" I said coolly, my hands stinging from the gravel that was embedded in them.

"Excuse me?" he said, clearly not used to being told off like that.

"I said damn right it was your fault" I said casually "I was going about my business and knocked me off my feet"

"I prefer the term 'sweeping' women of their feet, specially when they're as pretty as you are" he told me with a charming smile, eyes taking in my faded jeans, form-fitting shirt and knee-high boots.

"Good for you" I said with a small smile. This guy was a real sweet-talker "But, you're in luck. I'm not mad, and I'd rather not kill my good mood....so I really should be going"

And with that I extracted my hand from the gentle but firm grip he was still holding it in, and patted him on the shoulder as I sidestepped him, walking past the handsome stranger with a sigh and a roll of my eyes.

A casual glance over my shoulder revealed the man in question looking after me with a curious expression still on his handsome features, his eyes now a deep teal color splashed with green in the afternoon light. The way the shadows played across his tall frame had my imagination running wild at the different ways to draw or sketch it, and his eyes immediately drew me in with the dozens of possibilities of painting them.

So I walked away, my mind already sorting through the different types of materials and painting methods, trying to figure out how best to capture those ocean-blue eyes with a hint of forest green......