The day I met her, it was spring.
It was a warm day, one of those when it's on brink of hot, and you're almost sweating, but not quite. Those were always her favorites.
When I first saw her, she was hiding beneath the willow tree. A pen was tucked behind her ear, her thick black hair tangling around it. A camera was hung around her neck, a notebook shut beside her, with her knees drawn up to her chest.
She looked so peaceful, and so beautiful.
I wanted to know her.
YOU ARE READING
When She Left
RomanceWhen they met, they became friends. Then lovers. Then one was left alone.
