When I first met you, I didn't know
-how I'd first fall for your laugh and later for your sense of humor
-how eventually we'd start skipping sleep just to listen to each other breathe
-how we'd get to know one another so well it would take just a shared look to read your mind
-how your bear hugs would become the best remedy to my sadness
When I first met you, I didn't know how lucky I'd just become.
~~~~~~~~~~
S I E R R A
"Oreo!" I called out as I looked around my open plan, two room apartment. It was small, and affordable. It smelt like shit; but hey, every treasure comes with a cost. In the furthest corner sat my double bed with grey pillows and many grey blankets on top, hung on the wall besides my bed was a long lengthen mirror and some other paintings that made my room cosier, in front of my bed was a three seater grey couch; a white rug sat cozily underneath. Along the wall sat a small, definitely not walk in but built in, closet. It's grey.
My favourite colour is grey.
On the opposite side of my apartment was a small kitchen; there was a small fridge, an old stove I really didn't use that much, grey counters; one of which had an old microwave sat on top, and a cheap sink that needed to be repaired. The second room was my small bathroom. It had a toilet, a sink and a small shower.
Home.
I think the fuck not. Everything was itchy and uncomfortable.
I didn't know how I had lost my cat in the small damn apartment but I did, so that was what I was currently doing. Looking for my baby kitten, "Come on, Oreo! I really need to go," I said as I wandered around my apartment, it was a Saturday night; me and my friends were going out, "I need to know you're safe. And fed" I added on before I froze next to my small grey couch. He always hides under the couch.
Nice one, Sierra.
I pinched the bridge of my nose before chuckling dryly, "Wow, I'm stupid." I say to myself with an ironic smile plastered on my face before getting on my knees and looking under the couch.
And there he was; my little fur ball. My baby kitten. He had soft and silky white fur and blue eyes, "Hi, hey, yeah; you. It would be really awesome if you could meow. Show me where you're at..." I spoke to my cat. I love Oreo like a freaking child. I've owned him since I was only 16 years old. I got him when he was only a few weeks old; so he's 5 now. As he stared at me he blinked once.
And then he freaking meowed.
As if he was mocking me. That was a low blow.
I narrowed my eyes at him before standing and turning to the mirror that had hung on my wall. I was pretty; and I'm not saying that in a shallow way, I'm simply confident in myself, like I should be. My light brown hair sat a few inches beneath my shoulders, my shining hazel eyes were filled with life, full lips. I was 5'9... in the heels I was wearing... I'm actually 5'7.
My face was diamond shaped, my body; healthy weight. I hate exercise, so I won't even try to tell you I had a sexy as hell body. Because I don't. I don't do leg day, leave me alone.
I am wearing a black sundress: the top half sticking to my upper body comfortably; still showing off my existent curves. After it reaches my waist it flows down to the middle of my thighs. My legs were bare and my feet were wearing black ankle boots.
I look prepossessing tonight.
No makeup is worn on my face; I love my natural beauty, there is no way in hell I am putting on a fake face for people to drool over.
Drool over my real face... Please?
I check myself once more before I grab my keys, my purse and denim jacket; then I walk out of my apartment, as I walk down the hallway that leads to the elevator; I couldn't help but wonder how tonight would unfold.
Nate, my close friend, was definitely going to cling to some random man.
Annie? She's probably going to suck faces with someone and Me and Blake will suck each other's faces off... because that is all he wants to do.
I love going clubbing.
I also love having a healthy cat; so I turn around and head back to my apartment to feed Oreo; because I forgot to.
~~~~~~~~~~
I pull my, phone out and dial Nate's phone number as I board a train at the subway. I hold it to my ear as I sit down on one of the seats.
My legs began bouncing as I waited for him to answer. After six or seven rings I hear the line pick up, "Hi?" Nate's voice calls out. I bite my bottom lip and roll my eyes, "Yeah, hi." I say as the train moves forward.
"Chica, where are you?!" He asks me dramatically as I cross my left leg over my right leg. I love the smooth feeling of my legs after I've shaved them, "I'm on a train. Can you wait at the subway with the others for me?" I ask my friend as I look around the train.
Nate has called me Chica since we were 19. The nickname apparently stuck. I don't complain anymore, but I hate it.
Nate's too stubborn to give a shit.
"You're half an hour late!" He groans in response. I shift my phone from my right hand to my left hand before pressing it back to my ear. I answered him as I examined my manicured nails, "I couldn't find Oreo ." I tell him honestly; he won't believe me. He always thinks I make up excuses because I, apparently, am obsessed with my hair. That, seriously, isn't true. I couldn't care less about my hair.
"Yeah, blame it on the demon." He grumbles, I told you he wouldn't believe me, but insulting my baby kitten? Hell no. I audibly gasped in response. He was really going to act shallow right now, "Nathaniel Jacobs! Do not call my baby a demon. He's an angel." I scold him; he goes silent for a few seconds and I could practically see him cringing at his full name. He has never really liked it. He can't wait to change his name from Nathaniel to Nathan. I don't think it matters.
"Yeah, okay Sierra De Le Mare. Can you hurry up please? We want to get our party on." He tells me; I blink a few times at his statement. I happen to like my French surname and boring first name, but the thing that had me blinking dumbfounded was that he wanted me to hurry up, "Yeah, sorry, let me go speak to the train driver for a few seconds, ask him to go faster." I reply sarcastically.
He scoffs, we say goodbye and then hang up. I love my friend; he's great. But sometimes I wanted to pull a gun out and shoot him. I say that in the kindest way possible.
Barely five minutes later I find myself growing bored and impatient. This is exactly why I Uber instead of taking a train. I feel very bored and unsafe right now. So I looked around at the other train passengers. Some are sleeping, some look half dead; some of the half dead people have blunts in hand, there are students and workers that have music playing through their earplugs.
And then there are them. There are 4 people. Three men and one woman that are beautiful. The woman has brown hair, her eyes are a dark brown colour; she has dark skin and her face expression looks serious. She is tall. She is beautiful. I grow practically seven times more insecure as I watch her stand close to the man next to her;a couple.
That man she is close to is huge; tall and built. He has black hair, brown eyes. He is Asian or Japanese. His face has a small, haughty, smirk as he eyes the dark-skinned woman besides him. He, like the woman, is beautiful. I find myself thinking of Blake, my boyfriend. He never smirked at me or ever acted playful with me. I wish he would, but he never does; all he wants is to go on dates and have sex.
The second man is brunette with soft grey eyes, he, like the first man, is tall and built. He is huge. He has laughing crinkles evident around his eyes which is good; it shows that the group laughs and has fun. They look really intimidating right now. But the four of them were too beautiful. It made me nervous; they were symmetrically perfect.
The third man that sat between the two men caught my gaze for a few longer seconds. He was abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous, and for some reason my heart skips a few beats. It's like time stopped. Like all that mattered in this moment was him. Blake who? All I know is this stranger a few feet away from me. His dirty blonde locks of hair sat on his head perfectly; his hair was pushed and held back by Gel; giving him a more formal look, his eyes are a beautiful dark green colour; like the healthy colour of dark green leaves on a tree. He is leaner than the two other men but still muscular. The other two look like it hurts to touch them, his muscles are big, but not huge.
When his gaze catches mine I look away quickly. I feel really embarrassed. I feel like I was caught doing a crime. I have suddenly found my hands very interesting to look at.
They are beautiful people. Sickeningly beautiful. I feel envious of their beauty. But I was still content with mine; I may not be ideal but I was enough. Nobody's supposed to be perfect, but these four seem to be freaking perfect.
I mean visually. I don't know them personally, obviously.
I could feel his gaze on me, and so I dare to look up, I dare to glance into his dark green eyes again. But what I see, I definitely didn't expect.
He was sending me a dark, murderous, look that screamed ' I'm going to kill you if I get the chance to '.
And I wasn't okay with that.
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