Okay this story is part of my three story vote. I have placed three entirely different stories up and I'm only going to finish the one that gets the most response and reviews. So please read them all and tell me what one I should continue with. Thanks to The Cullen ninja for checking them all.
The sun shone brightly above the city as the wind whipped merciful less below. It was an unnaturally windy day in Chicago. My skirts moved rapidly around my ankles and legs. My once tamed hair, flying out of its pins to swirl around my face and billow behind me in waves. My corset was being pushed painfully into my stomach as the wind rushed at me. I tried desperately to keep a hold of the straw hat on top my head, but fate had it's own plans.
My hat was ripped from my hands and began blowing down the street. Naturally I chased after it because my mother given it to me on my seventeenth birthday. I would be in trouble if I came home without it.
I ran down the sidewalk, following my hat as it rose and fell with the wind. A strong gust took it flying down the sidewalk, making me run faster. I never tripped once, despite the fact that I was watching the sky not the ground, the wind twisting my skirts as I was running. My good fortune seemed to only last for awhile, because, suddenly, my hat stopped moving. Someone had plucked it from the air.
My feet hit a stone and I was sent tumbling towards the ground. My hands skid across the gravel covered sidewalk, opening up the skin on my palms. My knees hit the ground too, ripping holes into my skirt and getting my once perfect dress dirty. Blood ran freely from my palms as I stared at them. A shadow fell over me as I looked up to see a man standing in front of me, the sun shining to brightly for me to make out his face. His hand held out in front of my face for me to take.
"I'm sorry sir, but my hands are all bloody, I wouldn't want to get it on you." I said politely before standing up. I stumbled once before I felt arms snake around my waist top hold me in place. I looked up at the man, wanting to see who my savor was. When my eyes met his I knew I was staring into the face of an angel.
His piercing emerald eyes seemed to bore into me, as if able to lift my deepest desires and secrets. His tousled bronze hair shimmered in the afternoon sun and the wind breezed through each strand. His skin a soft, milky white was perfect, untouched by scars, blemishes, grim, or age. His sharp angular features made him a man, but there was a softness about them that couldn't be over looked, still making him a boy. He hadn't yet said a word to me, but he smiled a genuine, warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts.
"I'm terribly sorry. I did not mean to stumble into you." I said in a rushed tone. He smiled once more before ripping a strand of fabric from his jacket, leaving a gapping hole.
"It is quite alright. People are allowed to fall down. Now let me see your hands." His voice was like woven silk, smooth and soft. His hands were even softer as they picked up mine to examine them. His touch against my cuts was nothing more then a moths wing, as he began to remove pieces of gravel and dirt from the open wounds.
"You don't have to do this. I can just go home and fix my hands up. You're getting your fingers bloody and you've wrecked your wonderful jacket." I felt the familiar blush creep onto my face as I watched him take care of my hands.
I was embarrassed for making a fool of myself in front of this angel.
"It looks as though you also wrecked your wonderful dress, and you also have blood on your fingers. I do not mind helping a lady."
Try all I could to keep my expression calm and polite like a proper lady I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer idiocy of his comment.
"You laugh at me ma'am, but I tell the truth." He replied to my laughter with good-humor.
"I'm sorry, but only you are strange enough to rip your jacket and get you fingers dirty for a girl you don't even know." He remained silent, which proved me right. Most people wouldn't have cared that I fell down and scrapped my hands, fore they would have kept walking, like everyone was all around us. I watched insolence as he wrapped his make-shift bandages around my palms. When he finished he kissed each one of my hands before dropping them at my sides.
"There you are milady. Your hands are now well." He tipped his head, and flashed me a brief smile before heading on down the street. I watched as he walked away and it hurt, but I couldn't understand why it pained me to watch him walk away. It was an ache that began in my chest, a dull throb that didn't go away.
He stopped suddenly, as if pondering something before turning around and heading back towards me. The aching stopped when he smiled at me, and I felt lifted. When he reached me he pulled my hat out of his jacket pocket.
"I grabbed this for you, but you distracting me from delivering it back to you." He chuckled at his words finding them funny.
"Again I must thank you for what you have done. You saved my hat and you fixed my hands. How will I ever repay you?" I asked, wanting to buy him a new jacket for I had ruined his original one.
"No need to thank me, it was my pleasure to help such a beautiful lady. All I ask in return is your name." He only wanted my name, but my name would give me away for the poor wench I was. He looked to be rich and proper, out of reach
for a poor girl like me.
"If my name is all you ask of me, then I shall give it to you. My name is Isabella." I purposefully left out my last name.
His eyes seemed to brighten. 'Isabella' he murmured under his breath, and I couldn't help it when my heart swelled at his words.
"It was nice meeting you Isabella, and I hope to see you again." He kissed the top of my hand before spinning on his heel and walking away.
"Wait!" I yelled, he paused and turned back to face me. "I didn't catch your name." He smiled a breathtaking crooked smile.
"It's Edward Mason." Were his parting words.
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