6So I am bored... like really bored... and yes I could be working on Wanted... and I am, i started hand writing it, its easier... I also am working on like three other stories...
But this, well I was online and read something where you should put your I Pod on shuffle, listen to the first song, and write something.
Well I've listened to Trace Adkin's "This Ain't No Love Song" four billion times now, and I have this 600 word drabble... maybe it will turn into something, or maybe it will sit here as a short story. ... but beware, this is rated T, but I do use the f*** multiple times... so if you find that offensive... :D
So I give ALL rights to Trace Adkin's cause this is totally his song, and any quotes in the story that I used are his, but I didn't quote " " as in put quotes around it. ... but this whole idea belongs to him, so if anyone finds it offensive that i 'stole' his song... I give him complete ownership...i was just bored and it ended up being a very similar to the song...
This Ain't No Love Stoy
He drove by again, her light was still on.
He had been driving since… since a while.
And it was not because he was thinking of her.
It was just an accident that he had driven past her house.
He was not in love with her. He did not even like her. He barely even knew she existed.
He was just driving, and it just happened that he was driving past her house. It did not mean anything. He just took a wrong turn.
Subconscious, it was not that he actually wanted to see her.
He could almost imagine her right now, in an over sized tee shirt in bed. He bet she looked even more beautiful than when he saw her in school. With her willowy figure, her thick dark hair, her red lips, he sighed, before shaking his head. He needed to rid these images from his mind.
He did not like her. His heart didn't even skip and beat, and when she spoke, said hi, told him that he had dropped his pen the world did not stop. Everyone kept walking by. There was no sparks in the air, no fireworks, no explosion, his heart didn't even fucking skip a beat.
Obviously it was nothing, he just felt like driving around, and thinking about her.
He shook his head, debating if he should go back home. He knew that he would be tossing and turning, he couldn't sleep at night she plagued his dreams.
God damn it. He slammed on the breaks, cursing under his breath.
He had not even fucking noticed the girl until recently. Why, why had he run into her Monday? He had just been walking to class, talking about his weekend, and their she was. A little lost, her head in the clouds, looking like some kind of angel, walking on air.
But he had seen plenty of girls just stand there, and did not plague his existence. They were not on his mind all the time, not haunting him in his sleep, and constantly popping up at the worst of times.
Why had her innocent in the cloud look caused this, feeling? A feeling he needed to get rid of, a feeling he had never felt before, and he was afraid.
He was not afraid. It was more of an inconvenience. Yes the feeling, the girl, all an inconvenience.
He took his foot off the break and began driving again. Once again passing her house, but not because he wanted to it was an accident, for the now sixteenth time in a row.
He wondered if she'd be freaked out if he started singing to her.
Man what was he thinking, he scolded himself, he was not singing to her, when you sang to girls generally you sang a love song, and this was not a love song. Not now, not ever.
Finally he pulled over. He got out of his car, and slammed the door. Not sure where he was going. It just so happened though he passed her house.
It just so happened he stopped at her house. Not that it meant anything. He was just standing here. It wasn't against the law. He was just standing.
It was all her fault. If she did not exist then he could be at home. He could be sleeping –which he couldn't seem to do with his new problem- he could be watching TV, he could be hanging with friends.
He continued walking, down the street, before stopping to lean against the street lamp.
He cursed her, cursed her to the pits of hell. He walked back toward where he left his car.
He just had to stop; she had shut her light off now. She was asleep, he wondered if her parents would be pissed if she knocked on her door.
He shook his head, mentally scolding himself, he did not need to knock on her door, and it was past midnight, they'd call the police. It was not like he wanted to talk to her.
He continued to walk down the street, got in and started the car.
And of course, not a song about beer, hanging with guys, trucks, no a fucking love song was the first thing to come on the radio, a fucking Taylor Swift love song, about god damn Romeo.
He cursed, before shutting it off and putting his foot on the gas and taking off down the street, far away, as far away from her as possible.