The First (Fallen Cinderella)

Hope, One shot for Romance Competition.

You know when someone nearly has your heart, but then it slowly disintegrates.

You both lose yourselves, and feel happy with it. The glass slipper tight. And you feel it coming, slowly its there but you choice is to ignore it. He might be a player but with the sun rays through the white enveloped sheets, you completely forget. But you don't know that your shoes becoming bigger. And it goes on and on. Summer,Autumn, Winter and Spring winning or losing. That pulse acceleration and sweet conversations and slow winds. You remember that one thought but its too close. You lose your breath and then the war has already begun. He was a sweet talker and you were a weak heart. The player two has already won, leaving you shattered, trapped and inwrapped with silhouettes and memories in your shadowed black walls. And so your shoe finally falls.

But what if none of that happened? And you live that "happily ever after?" Or maybe if you're lucky, you get a glimpse of a new blossomed love.

Have you ever felt it? That first glance, the first touch, the first kiss, the first everything? No matter if you've done it with someone else, multiple or none, you'd always find one to fall for,

him with him, or her with her, and then him and I. And love being love, the idealist, the connector, the imperial perfectionist.

*The First Day*

My names Anastasia, and his the unknown.

"It's apart of my job you see? But I need the money for my food and apartment! You never acknowledge me!"

I shout on the phone hating the person on the line to break up with me like this. I need to get out of here fast and so I did.

This was the last day I'll ever breathe on this Earth.

*The First Talk*

Despised and sitting in the cold, over this cylinder shaped moving world that is always leaving me behind, horrendously crushing me slowly and punishing me to live with my sins.

My hands shake while I suck on my life ending cigar, trying to fill that hollow feeling inside of my chest, but as always abide to it.

It was as though the Gods above told me to look up, even with my hot tears and cold body, heaving chest, my head slowly obeyed, chucking my cigar on the floor and crushing it

And I saw him, there he was looking happier than most of my friends on crack, holding a painting that was a mosaic of a womans blonde hair, exactly like mine swaying down in thick curls and I have never seen anyone get the exact colour in my whole twenty-two years and as I feel a gaze looking at me, I tuck my hair behind my ear nervously and hope he doesn't see my tears.

His smile slowly deteriorates while drinking in my appearance. I feel myself tasting hope.

The shoe is there in the air.

I become subconscious and turn around when I see the glint of pity in his hazel eyes against the London dime lights.

I was tired needing love. I play Thinking out Loud by Ed my soulmate and hum the tunes.

People fall in love in mysterious way,

May be just a touch of a hand...

"Bullshit" my inner loveless heart cried.

I stop in front of the pedestal crossing waiting for the cars to go past, dazing off I think about what I'm going to do with my empty life and a big rock hits me, shocked when a person is on top of me thats heavier than an elephant I try getting up. I never expected it to be him, but then it was.