I don't have a damn clue what on earth I'm doing right now so I don't have a proper description and for the time being this is a stab in the dark.
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Aila is a teenage girl that has endured so much in her life already. There's on...
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A/N
What's up, lads? Eoghain is spelled the Irish way and I'll make sure to have the pronunciation for ye on all the possibly confusing names, don't worry. It sounds the same as Owen.
I'm not even focused on the pain of my scars, stitches, cuts, or bruises; just the fact that I have to get as safe as I possibly can from those absolute idiots. Emphasis on the 'idiots' because they couldn't even keep a damn knife from being stolen. I didn't even need to make a distraction.
I think I might have to go to Eoghain's house. Or at least, one of them considering he lives in Manhattan but he comes to the Bronx every once in a while to hang out with me and make sure I'm safe.
The bus takes about an hour but who needs a bus when you have a McLaren Speedtail? He even lets me race some of his cars sometimes. He's always selling them and putting different artistic details on them to gain profit and buying better cars with it.
Eoghain kind of knows what happens when I'm not with him, but not everything. I know that he'd get his parents involved and make a bigger deal than what's necessary. I just need to get out. That's it. And figure out where the fuck to go.
I turn the corner and bump into something. Or someone, it turns out as I look up at who's holding my waist from almost falling like the massive clutz I am.
Oh shit. This guy's fucking gorgeous. Who had the right to be distracting me with this lad and his stunning deep blue and hazel eyes that seem like a cartoon? Fucking damn, I'm staring. And thinking about his eyes in way too much detail. What the fuck? Steadying myself, I clear my throat and say sorry. The little kid next to him keeps staring at me for some reason.
"You're really pretty," he says without breaking eye contact with me. "That's really sweet, thank you," I basically pant breathlessly and kneel down to his height. "You're handsome, too. I'm Aila," I added, holding out my hand for him. "I'm Giuseppe!" I don't think this kid meets people very often because he seems a tad too excited about it.
He shakes my hand. "That's an amazing name. You guys Italian?"
"Yeah, we are. You?" gorgeous guy says. "Yeah. Well, Italian among other things."
"You seem like a nice person. Do you want to come with us to get ice cream? Is that okay, Lucas?" The handsome lad chimes in and says, "Yeah, that's okay; if you want to come, that is."
"That's a really nice offer, and I appreciate that you want to keep talking to me but, sadly, I'm actually in a rush to get somewhere, sweetie."
He pouts and whispers something about not being able to see me again.
I've known him for like, 5 minutes and he's already so attached to me. I sigh and hesitate before I speak again. "You know what? This is gonna sound way too cliché but if you're meant to see me again, you will. I promise." I hold up my pinkie finger and wait for him to agree. Doesn't take long since he seems like the type to have his head in the clouds and believe in fate and other things like that.
