Runaway (h.s)

one

Ella

Staring at my reflection in the mirror I didn't feel the excited which is expected of a bride-to-be. I just didn't understand why.

Everything was perfect, Damian agreed to all my ridiculous demands, even wearing a terracotta tie to fit the peach theme of the wedding. Everything matched, even the napkins were the exact shade of his tie. I spend months planning this day so why has the excitement fizzled out?

Feeling the dread of tonight, panic began rising in my chest the longer I stared at my reflection. My dark hair was in perfect curls, my nails manicured into a slender coffin shape with peachy pink gel, and my makeup was impeccable so why wasn't I satisfied?

I shouldn't be having second thoughts or any doubts now. I had 30 minutes until I had to walk down the isle, I was preparing for this day since I turned 12 and yet I was already dreading the married life. The perfect married life I envisioned with Damien suddenly appeared so mundane and boring. I know he would give me anything I want, if I wanted I could have a big house with white picket fence, perfect little family and a family dog. Although I could envision this picture perfect life, I didn't see Damien in it.

Maybe it was the lack of intimacy in the last couple months between us which was making this decision so hard. I blamed it on the stress of wedding planning but what if this is what married life consists of? Just lack of sex.

Bile began rising in my throat as my stomach hurt from the anxiety. I swallowed it down, breaking eye contact with my own reflection in the mirror as I glanced at the clock on the magnolia wall in front of me.

15 minutes.

I can't do it, I can't marry a man I'm dreading to see standing at the end of the isle with that stupid terracotta tie. I don't even like the colour of terracotta.

I had exactly 15 minutes to get out of here, 15 minutes before I have to walk the isle by my dads side as he hands me over to a man I don't love. A man I thought I had to love as our families attempt to merged businesses.

I'm not ready.

Gathering the train of my dress in my hands, I moved across the room pushing the large door open which stood in the way between me and freedom. I could see my bridesmaids standing in the hallway, obviously excited as they gossiped about the quests arriving.

I started walking down the hallway towards the main entrance of the venue, the only stop before my great escape.

"Ella? Where are you going? No time for a ciggy break now!"

I resist the urge to stop in my tracks as Ashley's voice rings through my ears but instead I push harder on my feet, breaking out into a sprint. I could hear Ashley and the girls calling out my name but I could only run faster, panic and anxiety fuelling my limbs as I push past the main door and onto the busy streets of New York. I kept running not looking behind me nor paying attention to my surroundings, my only goal is to get out of here as fast as I could.

That was until I heard the screeching of a car. A black SUV stopped, just millimetres away from driving right into me.

If it killed me at least I couldn't have to endure the embarrassment of facing my family and Damien after fiasco that is tonight.

The SUV rolled down the drivers window and soon a British accent boomed from the car "Oi what the fuck are you doing?"

Now this wasn't my smartest decision but it was the only way to get me out of here and fast. And just like that I got in the strangers car. Maybe I had a death wish tonight, if my parents didn't kill me first for pulling this shit tonight, the stranger definitely might given the murderous look he was giving me.

"And I repeat, what the fuck are you doing?" His voice slowed down, emphasising each syllable as if I lacked braincells and couldn't understand the first time he yelled the same question at me. Well I wouldn't be surprised if he thought I was a escaped mental patient. Who the fuck gets in a strangers car, especially in New York? That's right me, the dumbest women alive.

"Comprendo English?" He asked, his voice aggregated as I still stared at the man blankly.

He must think I'm crazy.

I frantically look behind me, I could see Damien on the street, running around, desperately trying to find me.

"Drive" I demand.

"What?" The stranger barked a laugh, clearly shocked at my sudden demand.

"Drive" I repeat myself, panic rising all the way to my throat again.

Maybe he's deaf.

"Crazy bitch I'm not-"

"I said drive!" I almost scream at him, tears in my eyes now. "Please." I add my voice now breaking.

Something changes in him, emotions flash across his face which I couldn't decipher. But soon enough the car began speeding through the busy New York streets. I could tell he was trying hard to swerve and avoid most traffic, maybe for my sake or his own trying to get away from me as soon as possible.

Despite the quick getaway, we were soon stuck in traffic. I could feel his eyes on my face as I tried my best to look straight ahead, avoid eye contact at all costs.

"So you're not mute and you speak English." He stated the obvious, his tone less aggressive than before, almost humorous now. "Okay Runaway, are you a fugitive on the run or is it just shit taste in men?"

Runaway, well he's not wrong about that one I am a runaway.

"Either" I mutter. "Just a local runaway bride."

"Well okay Runaway, I'm Harry and you're are?" He asked, introducing himself. His green eyes now focused on mine and a genuine smile played across his lips.

"Ella" I smiled, finding humour in this ridiculous situation. "Would have been Ella Fields tonight." I couldn't help but laugh, Ella Fields wife of future CEO Damien Fields doesn't have the same ring to it now.

"Now you're Ella the Runaway" he smirked, at least he thought my crisis was funny.

I have to admit he was extraordinarily hot. Maybe it was the green eyes or the British accent adding to his charm? Or the tattoos peaking out from under his opened shirt.

I cleared my throat, I can't be checking him out now I just run away from my own god dam wedding. "You can drop me off on the next corner."

"No" he deadpanned.

Instantly my eyebrows shot up in panic. "What do you mean no? Are you going to kidnap me? Is this some sort of British trafficking for New York brides?"

He had the audacity to laugh in my face.

"I meant I can drop you home" he laughed, a dimple showing in his cheek. "No need to worry I'm not part of a British gang specialising in New York runaway bride trafficking."

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously "obviously if you were you'd never admit it" I paused my sentence, thinking it through. "I can't go back home now."

He glanced at me and at the road again before saying "I guess we're going to my place. Pizza or Chinese for dinner."

Great