She had a deep voice–one that gave her an air of confidence.
"Samir," I said, offering her my hand. "Zephyrine," she whispered.
"So, Samir, you think I'm hiding, do you?"
I chuckled, feeling a flicker of excitement in the air. "Not hiding, exactly," I said, releasing her hand. "Holding back."
She tilted her head, her gaze fixed on the vibrant hues of the sunset. "Maybe I've just grown accustomed to the peace," she mused. A glimmer of curiosity sparked in her eyes as she turned to face me, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
"7 AM tomorrow morning," he called out, his voice carried by the wind, howling like a relentless banshee.
YOU ARE READING
Must Have Been The Wind
Teen FictionAmidst the symphonies of honking horns and street vendors calling out their wares, the wind was the reigning prom-queen. In the scorching heat of summer, the wind was only an occasional visitor. I watched as the townspeople, no longer fanning their...
