Hear My Voice [On Hold]

Hear My Voice

Chapter 1

Violet’s POV

The rain falls slowly out of the sky. I walk down the hill, wandering aimlessly. This street isn’t very busy, which is strange for Montreal. There are only four people other than me walking down the street; one person all the way at the top of the hill, one all the way at the bottom. And crossing the street in front of me is an elderly Asian woman and helping her cross the street, holding an umbrella over their heads, is an Asian boy/young guy my age. He’s head and shoulders taller than me, with chocolate brown hair cut in layers, ending at the bottom of his neck. His suit is white, so are his shoes and socks. Even though it’s raining, his clothes are dry and perfectly clean. His eyes are warm, the color of melted milk-chocolate. As I step into the street, so does he. I pass on his left, narrowly avoiding a huge puddle.

Later that night I take off my sweater and hang it behind the bathroom door. At 10:45pm, I go to take my bath. While I’m sitting, relaxing in the bubbles, my gaze falls on my sweater pocket. There’s a paper sticking out, but I know I didn’t put anything in my pocket today. I go take it out of my sweater pocket, it’s folded. I open it and all it says is: 11:15pm, your balcony window, tonight. Don’t be late.

It’s 11:10pm now. I lean back in the water, debating whether to go or not.

11:13pm

I get up and put on a bathrobe. At 11:14 I step out onto my balcony.

“Down! Look down!”

He’s there, still dressed in white. In the dark of the night he looks like an angel sent to save me.

“Why don’t you come up?”

“I can’t get in. Lend me your key.”

Even though he’s beautiful I hesitate to throw him my keys.

“How am I supposed to trust you? I don’t know you. What’s your name?”

He hesitates. “I can’t tell you that yet.”

Now I hesitate, but the mystery appeals to me. And for some reason, he seems familiar; like I used to know him or something. I lean over the side of the balcony.

“Here.” I throw down my keys. He smiles and disappears below me. I assume he went into the hotel. I walk back into my room, running my hands through my hair. And then I hear it in my head. Can you hear me? It’s not me that thought that. I’m sure I didn’t. I know you can. It’s not me! Which key opens your door? I run to the bathroom, throw on some clothes and drag a comb through my hair. Which floor are you on? Four. I can’t believe I answered him! Room number? Fifty-six A. Oh my god, why? I mean he is really hot. And he’s got the mystery that I like. Thank you. One day you’ve got to tell me that out loud. No way! Stop listening to my thoughts! Then stop thinking so loud. I’m not. Which key opens your door? The one with the... The door unlocks. Found it. He’s standing in my doorway and looks even more beautiful than I thought.

“Thanks. Did you notice that we say our capital F’s the same way?” WTF? He runs a hand through his hair. It musses up and I have to hold myself from going to fix it. You can if you want. Besides, I do have your keys. If he leaves, I’m going to be so mad. You would?

“Well yeah, you have my house keys, car keys, hotel room keys, and my bike keys. And my studio keys and my friend’s house keys.”

“So, what’s the deal? You have what type of car?” He sits down on my couch after closing my door.