Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Life of a Hopeless Romantic
The Life of a Hopeless Romantic
2 reviewsthere really is no summary because it will spoil everything xD JUST READ THE DAMN CHAPTER!
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Chapter 1 - Encounter
You would think after so many years of not being noticed by him, that I would simply give up and move on with my life. No, I'm not that simple. This may be one of the hardest things that I have ever have to deal with. Not being even acknowledged by "him". What I mean by "him", is the one I admire the most. The man I am so very intrigued with in every sence. The man I love. With every fiber of my being, I have never had so much love for anyone in my entire lifetime. He's simply perfect. I know that no one truely IS "perfect", but in my mind he is. I think its because of how many imperfections he has. He's so odd, twisted, strange but thats also what makes him so special. As you can see, I'm very complex. Not in the way that you would see me as a hard person to talk to that knows everything about anything, but I must be very careful with this love. I take my time with every step, every moment, every second...I grasp it tightly and deal with it very cautiously. One of these days...I will approach him...
"One mocha Frappichino light, Grande size, please," I asked the cashier at the front counter. Placing my order at my favorite coffee shop, Starbucks. Ironically enough, it's his favorite coffee shop as well. No, I don't just like Starbucks because he likes it too, it's because they have great coffee.
"That'll be $4.79, please." the young woman replied, ringing up my beverage. I handed her the money and took my coffee.
"Thank you." I added and placed two quarters into the tip jar. Placing my coffee on the table, just a few tables down from his imfamous table setting. Whats another strange thing is that he does the same thing every morning. He is a very pecular man, I must say. He comes in, orders the same coffee, sitting at the same table, doing the same thing every morning...drawing, until he was completely finished. This man was truely an artist. He attended the School of Visual Arts a few years back with some of my old friends. They explained that he had a talent for things that were somewhat abstract, dark, sort of macarbre, if you will call it that. But in my opinion, he didn't need art school for the talent that he persued. He lived in his head most of the time. Not talking to anyone, unless he knew them. But then again, if someone needed help, he was generous enough to give a hand.
RING-ING-ING
I looked down at my watch and looked up at the door.
It was him.
His long, raven-colored hair draped ever so lightly on his shoulders, some strands falling into his face. His gorgeous, pale, porcelin-like face. But these strands were only mearly covering his golden hazel eyes. How I wanted to brush away the black locks so I could see them. Everytime I saw them, they would make my heart stop. Thats what he did to me every morning.
He grabbed his coffee and walked to his seat. As he began to stop by me, I picked up my magazine quickly to hide my face, which resulted in my cellphone falling to the floor.
"Shit," I cursed. As I went to pick it up, a smooth, pale hand reached the device before I could.
"I'm sorry I-" I froze. There, just inches from my face, was the angelic presents of...him. I was lost for words, though my pulse was pounding in my ears.
"Here, I think you dropped this..." his voice smooth and radiant.
"...Thank you..." I breathed, still lost for words.
He smiled. God, I thought my heart just stopped.
"Your Welcome," he said and rose.
"See you around..." he added before walking to his seat.
I clenched my chest and took a deep breath. My mind racing, my heart pounding in my ears just like before. I swallowed hard.
Yes, this would definately have to be one of the hardest things I would ever have to deal with.
TO BE CONTINUED...
(A/N: comments are appreciated =D)
You would think after so many years of not being noticed by him, that I would simply give up and move on with my life. No, I'm not that simple. This may be one of the hardest things that I have ever have to deal with. Not being even acknowledged by "him". What I mean by "him", is the one I admire the most. The man I am so very intrigued with in every sence. The man I love. With every fiber of my being, I have never had so much love for anyone in my entire lifetime. He's simply perfect. I know that no one truely IS "perfect", but in my mind he is. I think its because of how many imperfections he has. He's so odd, twisted, strange but thats also what makes him so special. As you can see, I'm very complex. Not in the way that you would see me as a hard person to talk to that knows everything about anything, but I must be very careful with this love. I take my time with every step, every moment, every second...I grasp it tightly and deal with it very cautiously. One of these days...I will approach him...
"One mocha Frappichino light, Grande size, please," I asked the cashier at the front counter. Placing my order at my favorite coffee shop, Starbucks. Ironically enough, it's his favorite coffee shop as well. No, I don't just like Starbucks because he likes it too, it's because they have great coffee.
"That'll be $4.79, please." the young woman replied, ringing up my beverage. I handed her the money and took my coffee.
"Thank you." I added and placed two quarters into the tip jar. Placing my coffee on the table, just a few tables down from his imfamous table setting. Whats another strange thing is that he does the same thing every morning. He is a very pecular man, I must say. He comes in, orders the same coffee, sitting at the same table, doing the same thing every morning...drawing, until he was completely finished. This man was truely an artist. He attended the School of Visual Arts a few years back with some of my old friends. They explained that he had a talent for things that were somewhat abstract, dark, sort of macarbre, if you will call it that. But in my opinion, he didn't need art school for the talent that he persued. He lived in his head most of the time. Not talking to anyone, unless he knew them. But then again, if someone needed help, he was generous enough to give a hand.
RING-ING-ING
I looked down at my watch and looked up at the door.
It was him.
His long, raven-colored hair draped ever so lightly on his shoulders, some strands falling into his face. His gorgeous, pale, porcelin-like face. But these strands were only mearly covering his golden hazel eyes. How I wanted to brush away the black locks so I could see them. Everytime I saw them, they would make my heart stop. Thats what he did to me every morning.
He grabbed his coffee and walked to his seat. As he began to stop by me, I picked up my magazine quickly to hide my face, which resulted in my cellphone falling to the floor.
"Shit," I cursed. As I went to pick it up, a smooth, pale hand reached the device before I could.
"I'm sorry I-" I froze. There, just inches from my face, was the angelic presents of...him. I was lost for words, though my pulse was pounding in my ears.
"Here, I think you dropped this..." his voice smooth and radiant.
"...Thank you..." I breathed, still lost for words.
He smiled. God, I thought my heart just stopped.
"Your Welcome," he said and rose.
"See you around..." he added before walking to his seat.
I clenched my chest and took a deep breath. My mind racing, my heart pounding in my ears just like before. I swallowed hard.
Yes, this would definately have to be one of the hardest things I would ever have to deal with.
TO BE CONTINUED...
(A/N: comments are appreciated =D)
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