𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆, Short Stories (Completed)

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 02 | train ˊˎ-

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆
𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐚𝐡

plot idea by the lovely ruelspinkgrapefruit ! i love you so much el and thank you for letting me use it! <3

𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 at a halt right in front of me, when I hear the lady's voice over the intercom, announcing about the train and asking passengers to file in it quickly. I get up from the bench I was sitting on, my light bag dangling over my shoulders and walk towards the open doors of the train. 

As I enter the carriage, with the golden sunlight filtering through the windows shining down on me, I notice the carriage is completely empty. A smile graces my face, realising I will be alone for my entire train ride.

I walk till the end of the carriage and pop on the last window seat, keeping my bag on the chair next to me and leaning my head against the window, ready to sleep throughout the entire journey.

I feel the train slightly move ahead, but before it can begin its travel, I hear footsteps walking in the aisle. I open my eyes and see a young boy with shaggy black hair walking towards the end of the carriage. He notices me and gives me a warm smile, which I acknowledge. I watch him sit in the first row, his seat being parallel to mine.

The train creaks slightly and it slowly begins to move. I look at the young guy, who is looking out the window. His hair is partially covering the side of his face; the only thing being visible is his jawline. In just a fraction of second, he whips his head around, allowing his dark brown eyes to connect with my green ones. I feel my cheeks coat with a champagne pink blush, making me turn my head around from him. I hear him breathe out a small chuckle; but I dare not turn around and look at him again.

The train begins to pick up speed, and pretty soon we have left the train station. Bright green fields rush past by, and I find tranquility in them. I notice a few peasants in the fields, working hard under the sunlight. I open my bag and pull out my copy of Ikigai. I rummage through the pages and finally find where I left it off, continuing reading from there. 

"You like reading books?"

I lift my head and glance at the guy looking at me. 

"Yeah," I say.

"Cool, me too," he replies. "What book is your favorite?"

I peel my eyes off him and gaze off into space, trying to choose one book out of the million books I have read and enjoyed in my life. A few seconds of searching throughout my brain, I finally decide on one. 

"Little Women," I say, "basic, I know, but it is my comfort book. I read it when I was quite young, 15 if I am correct, and I fell in love with Louisa May Alcott's writing and the characters she beautifully crafted." He looks at me with serenity brimming in his eyes.

"I have read that one too, and I completely understand why you chose that one as your favorite. I felt close as ever with Jo. I think it's because we both have the same passion - writing."

"Whoa whoa whoa," I say with my eyes wide, "you write?"

He lets out an airy chuckle. I notice his eyes crinkle on the sides and a dimple adorns his left cheek when he laughs. "Yes I do. Would you like to read something I wrote recently?"

"I would be honored," I say, barely able to control my excitement. He rummages through his bag and finally pulls out a navy blue folder. He pulls out some papers and hands me one of those. I grab it from him and gaze at the title at the top of the page - When Flowers Die.

The scent of the flowers fills up my nose, as I gaze around at the butterflies flying on their frail yellow wings. The meadow in front of me seems like a color palette with a mess of colors splashed all over. The sunrays reflect all over the flowers, and that is when I realise, these flowers are my muse. Their frail petals hanging off the discs is what makes me feel alive. I don't know where I will be if these flowers die.

I read it over and over, letting the words sink in me. His words are articulated perfectly, and reading them makes me realise how much I am able to connect to them.

"This is just beautiful," I breathe out, still not able to get over his wondrous writing.

"Thank you," he smiles. "This is nothing but a small representation of my love of flowers and how I find serenity and inspiration in them."

"How do flowers inspire you?" I ask, handing him the paper.

"I guess, everything about the flower is inspiring. Its petals, the stem it loosely hangs from, the curled leaves. Looking at a flower is like looking at poetry; simple words yet complex meanings hiding behind them. I try to understand a simple flower, and to express what I find in my words."

I try to peel my eyes from him, yet all my efforts go in vain. His words have me entranced, and that is when I realise he is full of secrets no one has yet uncovered.

I am ready to do absolutely anything to get him know better, and feel him closer to me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Can we talk about how 'flowers in the window', 'two ghosts', 'forbidden', 'tightrope' and 'dreams' are my literal inspirations for this? Thank you guys for writing your phenomenal books, they have resulted in this one heck of a chapter.

And a huge thank you to Elena once again for letting me use this plot! I hope I did justice to it <3

Also, I know no one asked, but the girl's name was decided as Eris and the boy's as Winter. I didn't really feel like including the names, and I am sorta glad I didn't SKDOSKD I feel it looks better this way hehehe

ALSO, 'when flowers die' was also written by me :D

Vote and comment please! I love you all so much <3

WITH LOVE THROUGH HEALTH AND SICKNESS
KEZIAH