Disclaimer: No characters are my own
New Year, New story... Enjoy!
A loud huff echoes into the slight wind passing by. The air is mildly cold, not enough for it to be freezing, but enough for a slight chill.
It's a cold October's day, and you're beginning to get impatient. You've been sitting in this exact same spot for almost half an hour now, and it still hasn't arrived.
No matter how much you keep checking your watch, to try and see if the time has actually gone past, it still seems to read the exact same time it did when you first looked.
Five minutes past eight.
If the bus doesn't get here soon, you know for a fact that you're going to be late. And you really can not afford to be late again, not after the telling off you received the day before.
The bus should be here now, it should've been here ten minutes ago, but it still has yet to arrive. This just frustrates you even more.
From the corner of your eyes you can see you're long blonde hair flying around in the wind. You can feel the tips of your nose beginning to get cold. 'I better not get a cold' you begin to think. That would be the high-light of your day, seeing as nothing else seems to be at the moment.
You had a feeling it would be a bad day, from the moment you got up and saw on your alarm clock that you were supposed to have gotten up an hour ago. You felt it even more when you began rushing around your small one bedroom apartment, making sure to be ready on time.
And definitely felt it when you only had time to shove one slice of buttered toast into your mouth before grabbing your coat and heading out the door, only to find that you had forgotten your purse, again. Especially when you had to then go back inside and look for another ten minutes around your flat for your purse, only to find that you had it in your shoulder-bag all along.
Even though you know there not true, in that moment you really did start to believe in those dumb blonde jokes.
And then your day only got better when you eventually get to your bus stop, only for your bus to drive straight off. The one you were meant to catch, if only you had woken up on time.
You instantly blame you're younger sister for this, seeing as she was the one who kept you up all night crying over her precious, idiotic boyfriend (the one you keep constantly telling her to end it with, time and time again, only to find that she didn't listen to your advice at all).
So that leaves you here, waiting at your usual, same old bus stop. It's small, with only a line of metal as seats and thin windows that get broken every other week. The one with the grey paint that is now starting to wear off, the little bus stop that's pretty much in the middle of nowhere, with only you in it at first.
But as time began to, slowly, tick on by other people started coming and going waiting for their buses too. Must of them, thankfully, stay away from you. You really don't want to chat right now, so you're glad that you don't need too. But you wish that you had something else to do, to at least have music to listen too, but nope you had forgotten your iPod Touch as well. And now that you think about it, you remember exactly where it is, it'll be where you left it last night, on your bedside table. You could've easily picked it up this morning, if only you hadn't been in a rush. You just roll your eyes at your own stupid misfortune. Today really is going to be a bad day.
The weather doing nothing to help, it just seems to be getting colder and colder. You're happy, at least, that you brought your gloves and scarf. Their keeping you wrapped up nice and warm, you look down at your brown gloved hands. The woolly mittens that you had gotten a month ago, there now finally coming into good use.
You bring your hands up to your mouth and cover up your nose. You breathe out, letting your hot breath bounce from your hands to your nose, warming them up just a little bit. But it's enough, for now.
You do that a few more times before rubbing your hands together and bringing them back down to your lap. At least now your nose might not look so red, like Rudolph. A small smile showing on your face at that thought. But it instantly fades when you see an old man, standing in front of you, turned back around and giving you a creepy smile of his own.
Now you really wish your bus could be here. Why was it taking so long? Nobody seems to be answering though, as no bus seems to show. You check your watch once more; it is now twenty past eight, and its still not here. You let out another irritated huff, whilst shaking your head. You know for a fact that you will be late now, and your boss isn't going to be happy at all.
'Those customers aren't going to serve themselves, Fleur' he'll say.
'Grab your apron and get to work' he'll shout, just like he does everyday whether you're late or not. But now that you will be it'll be worse instead.
You swear that there is only so much of him, and those silly customers, that you can take. But you need the money, you really need the money. So you just grin and bare it, like you've learnt to do, each day. Why does moving out have to be so hard?
Just when you start to think more on that, you see a familiar green vehicle appear in front of you. You hear the sound of it stopping, before the big doors slide open. Some people begin to get on, and you stand up following along.
You lift your head up a bit and try to see the numbers on the side. You definitely want to make sure that it's the right bus, because you'd dread to think what he'd say if you told him you were late because you went the wrong way and ended up God knows where. But when you finally see it, the big '132a' that is written in green, you give a small nod. This is the right bus. Finally.
You stand in line, and start to go to the first step, that's when you begin to get your purse. On the second step, you're still reaching around your bag. On the third step you grab it and fetch it out. Your many key rings stuck onto it flying out with it. You really need to lay off those key rings.
You face the bus driver, a grumpy middle-aged man, whose looking at you with a scowl on his slightly, chubby face.
"Chester Village, pleaze'," you mumble out. Seeing as you're still not in the best of moods, especially since the bus has only just arrived now.
But you are a bit happy hearing that you're English is slowly getting better now. Soon people won't even realise that you're French, whether that's a good thing or not you don't really know.
"Two, sixty" he says in a gruff, manly voice.
You just roll your eyes, slightly, at his obvious distaste, before looking for the change. But when you do, you seem to only manage to count out two, twenty. That can not be right. You could have sworn you had more change. You'd been counting it when you were waiting, seeing as you had nothing better to do for over half an hour.
You begin to rummage around in the other pockets, but can only see pennies. You manage to find another twenty pence, but that's all. You need twenty pence more, but you don't know how you'll manage to get that.
The bus driver lets out an irritated grunt, telling you to pay already. You just glare back at him. Some people need to learn to gain some patience.
You can hear feet's tapping behind you, meaning there are other people standing there, wanting to catch the bus too. Great, now you're in a rush, and you're not in the mood for this either.
You give the man the change that you have, hoping that he won't notice. But before you can sneakily get on, forgetting about a ticket, the bus driver stops you.
"You need another twenty pence" he grumbles.
"Sorry, I do not 'ave anymore change" you tell him, a small pleading coming out in your voice.
You really don't have time for this.
"Then I'm afraid you can't get on the bus."
"What! Why not? It iz' only twenty pence" you say, your voice rising a bit as your anger begins to kick in.
"Look, they are the rules, okay, I don't know what it's like where you come from, but here in England if you don't have the right change, you don't get on." He tells you in his deep, manly voice, clearly getting frustrated.
You can't be dealing with this right now, and you're certainly not in the mood to simply get off and wait for the next one, not in this cold weather. You'd think that he'd have the decency to see that himself, but clearly this man doesn't care about anyone, unless he's just woken up on the wrong side of the bed.
You can feel your anger rising, and you know that you'll most likely end up shouting out all your thoughts to the man very soon. You almost expect too, when something stops you. Or more so, someone.
You feel a hand touch your arm, it's gentle and light, and for some reason seems to send a tingle running down your spine. You don't know why, but it's almost giving you a warm feeling going from your arm down to your stomach. And a slight flutter goes straight past your heart. You let out a small gasp.
You don't know where the small hand came from, or who it belongs too, but for some strange reason you really want to find out.
The hand instantly calms you, and you feel yourself let out a deep breathe. You hear a quiet "It's alright" from the person behind you, and you swear you've never been more intrigued to find out anything than you are now, and they'd only said two words.
You feel their feet reach the third step, the one where your feet are as well. You instinctively move your feet apart to give them room for theirs. You look down and see a small woman's shoe, black and simple with not much design around it, long black trousers seem to cover most of it up.
But it's not the shoe that amazes you, it's the way that they seem to fit right into the gap, and place themselves perfectly in between your own, worn-out, flat brown shoes. You smile at the simplicity of it all.
The hand that was still, tenderly, on your arm then begins to reach forward and drops two ten pence coins where the rest of the change is. You can't keep your eyes off of the black-leather gloved hands in front of you.
"Here, twenty pence, the exact right amount of change. I'm sure England and its stupid bus rules will allow this young lady to ride now." A stern, sultry voice says from behind you.
The woman is standing so close; you can just about feel her warm body pressed against your back. You're amazed, you haven't even seen the woman, and yet you're simply amazed.
You hear the man press a button and rip the ticket off, with a bit more force than needed.
"Here" is all he says before shoving the ticket into your hand.
You give him a small glare before letting out an unimpressed ",'zank you." You give a flick of your golden hair and walk off.
You immediately miss the contact, the further away from her you go. You don't even know why but you get a sudden urge to turn around and see her for the first time. But you can't. Not yet anyway. You know that you have to find a seat first; especially when you look around and find that there are quite a lot of people on here already.
You keep moving down the thin aisle, and see that most of the front seats are taken. So you keep walking down and finally, second row from the back, you find a seat available.
You instantly sit down and slide along to the window, you always preferred sitting by windows then near the end of the seat. You don't know why exactly, it's just something about sitting near the aisle, where people constantly go up and down that bugs you. So you're thankful that this seat is available. It might even be the highlight of your day so far.
Now that you're facing the front of the bus, you immediately start to look where the bus driver is. But once you do, you see that it's a different person paying now. That's strange, you didn't think it took you that long to find a seat; maybe they'd already paid and sat down.
So you immediately begin to search the bus, but can't seem to find a young woman wearing black-leather gloves and black simple shoes anywhere. Just when you'd lost all hope, you look outside the window.
And right there, you see her.
Only a short glimpse, as she walks straight by.
You follow her with your eyes, and see that she has soft looking brown hair tied up in an elegant bun. Her pale, fair skin shines in the dreary, early morning light. Her dark, grey coat tightly tied around her waist, accentuating her slim figure which you can see clearly as she walks on by. You wouldn't have even been sure it was her; if it wasn't for the gloves you saw her holding as she walked past. Immediately recognising her black, faintly, heeled shoes.
You're so close to the window now, that you can almost hear them clacking away on the cold-hard pavement she walks upon.
You don't know what it is about this simple young woman that's got you so hooked. But from the moment she touched your arm you've known, there is just something about her.
Maybe it's the fact that she randomly saved you on the bus just now, and you don't even know why. Or it could be because she seemed to have gotten on a bus only to help you before walking away. Maybe it's just her overall mysteriousness that's got you so fascinated. You just don't know. But whatever it may be, she's gotten you spellbound, and you can't help but want to know who she is.
As you watch the mystery woman breeze past like the wind in the sky, you could have sworn that you saw a small smile on her face. But you hardly saw enough of her to know for sure, that could have just been your mind playing tricks on you. It is still early in the morning, after all.
But as your bus begins to start and drives past your local bus stop, you begin to worry that you might forget her precious face. But the more you think about her, the more her face won't seem to leave your mind.
Maybe it's true, what they all seem to say, maybe everything does happen for a reason. Maybe you were meant to have missed that bus all along. Maybe this bus was meant to be late. Maybe you were meant to have bumped into her, only to never see her again.
Whatever it may be, at least you know one thing is for certain. You now know the highlight of your day.
Right Question: My 20 year old sister was just having a debate with my 10 year old sister - which was quite funny to watch might i add, seriously it was Hilarious - and they were arguing over a facebook comment my little sister had read.
The comment was - Like if you think Harry Potter is better than Twilight, Dislike if you think Twilight is better than Harry Potter.
Right, simple, or is it? because this is where it gets confusing - and where the argument began.
My little sister was arguing that if people chose the Dislike button it meant that they were saying that Harry Potter was better than Twilight, so basically either button pressed the end result would be that Harry Potter was better. She was saying it was meant to be a funny thing. But then my older sister (the 20 year old) was saying that if people pressed the Dislike button it meant that they were agreeing that Twilight was better than Harry Potter. So people pressed Like for Harry Potter and Dislike for Twilight.
If this is confusing you, than good, because it was confusing the heck out of us. And believe me this was a real debate, they were seriously raising their voices over each other and everything, like i said it was amusing. But what we never did was reach a conclusion. This is what we need to know.
Which one do you think is right, and be honest don't worry about the ages i'm not picking favourites. Honestly i agreed with little one at first but then started to believe older one, and now I'm just confused :S
I know this is long, but i seriously want to know. What do you think? Is it that the end result is Harry Potter, or do you believe the comment truly meant what it said.
I'll leave that for you to decide hehe, anyways now that i've gotten your heads confused, what d'you think of the story. I'll upload soon :)