THE GIRL HE'LL NEVER KNOW
Also called Always Perfect, Never Yours
Oct. 11, 2017:
About the Story: They are like parallel lines. This girl and this boy, closer to each other than one would believe, but with paths too different to cross.
Fate is a fickle thing.
Everyone has a story to share. But hers, he'll never know.
There she was, brown eyes brimming with tears behind centimetre thick glasses, her cheeks rosy from the cold weather outside brought upon by the pouring rain. Even through tears, she finished the page she was reading and flipped to the next scene of the worn out classic novel she has read only a dozen times. Long brown hair and bright black eyes, her heart shape face gained the attention of one, two, maybe three or more people in the library. But she was too engrossed to notice, her heart breaking at the tragic death of the infamous Romeo Montague. She's nineteen, barely an adult. Love can wait. But books cannot.
He was standing under the sycamore tree right outside of the school library, the perfect definition of a beautiful melancholic boy from your average romantic fantasy book with his knapsack long abandoned on the ground. He could hear the girls fawning over him even as they hurried to find shelter, their bags and umbrellas clutched in hand. He gave them a cheeky smile that was only too quick before he averted his gaze to look up at the sky.
Everyone in the field was leaving, all of them not wanting to get rained on. But he only smiled to himself, secretly pleased to be the only one crazy enough to enjoy the harshening downpour.
Soon, he was alone, and grinning like a fool as he ran lapses around the whole field faster than the university athletes, uncaring if his converse were getting soiled. Messy curls fell to blind his pale green eyes, and he nonchalantly swiped them off with his arm.
Right at this moment, it was just him, the sky and the rain.
He couldn't feel freer.
Feeling bolder, he took off his dark green leather jacket and threw it on the ground, leaving himself clad in only a checkered shirt and jeans to match, his arm spread wide like an eagle, his handsome head tilted upwards so he could feel the rain directly hitting his face.
All his life, he was used to merely existing. But moments like this were different. Moments like this make him feel alive.
It was almost eight in the evening when she found herself one of the few people left in the library. While the place would be packed on normal nights, she guesses that the common crowd would prefer to stay at home in this kind of "bad" weather.
She grabbed her bag, returned the books she borrowed to their respective places in the shelves, and then took quiet steps to head to the door.
The rain hasn't stopped, but no matter, she came prepared. She always carries two umbrellas just in case one accidentally breaks.
She was imagining the comfort of her home when her eyes caught sight of the opened knapsack resting under the tree.
Righteous indignation filled her then, and she frowned at the thought that someone was cruel enough to leave the books inside it suffering in the rain.
As quickly as she could, she pulled out a plastic envelope from her bag and laid it under the knapsack. Then she opened her reserve umbrella to cover it.
She would prefer to just bring it to the guard's house but she couldn't in good conscience, ignore the chances that someone must have left it there on purpose and would come back for it later.
Feeling only slightly appeased, she walked away.
He was cold and freezing but still very much in a good mood by the time he returned to retrieve his belongings.
A surprised gasp left him then, amusement filling his eyes at seeing the mint green umbrella shielding his knapsack from the rain. It morphed into chuckles when he bent down to grab the bag only to find a post-it note stuck to it.
Written in neat cursive handwriting that he suspects could only belong to a girl were these words.
Pity the books. They're innocent.
He sneezed before his laugh echoed across the now empty field.
A/N: I'd love to see a review if you liked it. ;)