The Colorful Tragedies of You and I (editing)

Two: The Tragedy

A/N:

Ready? Good.

Enjoooy! :3

Chapter 2

Finn's POV

"I'll see you again. Right?,"Sydney asks me as we get out of Starbucks. From the look on her eyes, I could tell she was in desperate need to hear a "yes".

I grin, "Yes, of course. I'm just a phone call away remember". I tell her, holding up my phone to make my point. We've exchanged phone numbers and addresses. Seems fast, I know. Even I couldn't believe it.

She smiles," Great. I really don't have anyone to talk to here besides my cousin and she's the only one I talk to the whole summer...well, that's just sad."

I nod and chuckle. I remember her telling me that she lives with her cousin named Cat while she stays here in London.

"It was a privilige to be your first friend here in Lovely London,"I tell her, cheekily.

She chuckles, "Well, I have to go so..."

My grin shrinks. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want "this", whatever "this" is, to end. But I know I had to let it end. It's just how things work.

"Umm...bye,"I quietly say.

She waves her hand and starts walking,"Bye Finn."

But before I can ever let her go. Before I can even register the fact of saying good bye. Sydney seems like she can't. I want to hold her. Tell her to stay or to have a walk with me. Something.

She does it for me.

"Do you have somewhere to go tomorrow?," she quickly asks. An eager smile decorating her features.

Her question caught me off guard. I'm not believing what I'm hearing. She wants to see me? Tomorrow?

I want to shout, out loud, right at that cobbled-stone street, in front of her. Yes, of course, I do. As long as it's with you, of course I do.

She seems to think of my silence as a bad thing. She looks at the ground, baffled, and shakes her head, "I'm sorry. I didn't

I smile and interrupt her, "I'd love to."

**********

Whatever I do, I just can't seem to get her out of my mind. We talked for 2 hours in that coffeeshop and even though I know a lot of things about her now, I can't stop craving for more. I know there's more inside her. I can feel it.

It's funny how I can remember almost every single detail about her even though we just met in less than 24 hours.

She's nineteen. Originally from Canada. She has dimples and a small birthmark on her shoulder. She's addicted to caffeine and wants to get a tattoo someday to cover up her birthmark and more. It was terrifying and amazing at the same time. That I know a lot about her than I do with people I've known for years.

I go home thinking about her. I draw thinking about her. I find myself looking at myself thinking about her. I eat dinner thinking about her. I prepare for bed, still thinking about her.

It's lame really. How I could think of someone who, twenty-four hours ago was a mere stranger, someone whose existence I had no knowledge about. And now, now, in less than twenty-four hours, I've met her. And more than that, I know her. Her quirks. Her flaws. Her qualities that she hates. And I want more. It's crazy. She was just a stranger and now, now I wanted to know her. Everything.

How is that possible? TO crave for someone, in just a matter of about fifteen hours.

It may be that cup of coffee that made it possible. Or that irritating urge to grab a caramel macchiato, early in the morning. Or maybe my car, or that stoplight, or that short line of customers.