different, yet so familiar
The air in Cher's lungs seemed to disappear. The feeling of guilt rushed back into her veins. She stared at the boy on the tree branch, outside her window.
Her body started to move, slowly. It edged closer and closer to the window. Her fingers were shaking but managed to open her window.
The boy had messy dark hair, pale skin, and ice like eyes with golden flecks. He wore a dark blue hoodie, brown pants and had a wooden stick in his hands.
"Jack," she manages to say. Her voice was barely a whisper.
He looked so different, yet so familiar.