Her

Why did he always have to make such a fool of himself? Why did he think that chasing after those bigger boys to get her toy back would be a good idea? Why didn't he see it coming when they stopped and turned around?

Why was she hovering over him?

Luke, in all of his 10 years had never done anything that made him stand out or feel out of the ordinary, but when he saw the strawberry-haired, freckle-faced girl crying, begging for her bag back he rushed into action; shouted at the older boys from another school to 'stop' and when they did a brief ray of hope emitted in him – that was until they turned back and pushed him over and then pushed over the girl too before running off again.

The girl had gotten up with her bright green eyes streaming with tears, stood above him and offering him her hand. He rubbed his face slightly before taking her hand and let her hoist him up.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do better."

He muttered without making eye contact. Feeling shame wash over him.

"Thank you for trying. There's nothing in it though, just my homework..."

She was so softly spoken it was like music to his ears, even if he felt like he had to strain to hear her, he heard every word so clearly and memorised her first words to him. She bit her bottom lip before looking at him.

"It used to be my sister's bag before she moved into high school. She said she wanted me to have it."

He nodded dumbly and murmured his understanding. For a moment, he couldn't understand why she'd be crying over homework. He'd probably have been grateful if someone had stolen his – not even his dog would eat his.

"She won't be mad at you, will she?"

"I hope not. Maybe she knows those older boys..."

She trailed off looking away from him. She watched as the wind blew through the trees, grateful it was a summer evening rather than a murky winter. The park route home took her through the most beautiful scenic path and she loved coming home this way and only did so when her big sister picked her up from school.

"Are you walking home on your own?"

The strawberry-haired girl asked innocently.

"Yeah, I always come through this way."

Luke informed her sheepishly, he didn't like when people asked him about walking home. Although he only lived on the other side of the park, he wished that there was someone waiting at the gates for him after school. Instead, he pushed through the crowds of parents and children with his head down and made his own way home – he'd been doing it for some time now.

The girl was about to say something else when she spotted her figure walking towards her.

"Naomi!"

She ran off towards the slim teenager approaching them and embraced her in a tight hug. The elder of the two, Naomi seemed shocked at the sudden display of affection.

"I only went to the toilet...Niamh, what's up? Where's your bag?"

Niamh...he felt a sudden rush of wind pass by him, around him and through him.

What a beautiful name.

A year had passed since that day and Luke thought of Niamh often. More often than a 10-year boy probably should. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to be the hero that found her bag, found her and reunited the two. She'd hug him and tell him how much it meant to her and then they'd declare they'd be friends for life. But, he never saw those boys again.