Media is who I imagine Lauren as (this is actually my friend Lauren who I'm writing this for because she's the love of my life) but if you want you can imagine Lauren as someone else?
Michael was intrigued by the short, blonde haired girl who had so angrily confronted him in the park, so naturally, he took the same train back to the city (he had work and band practice- he was in a band- the other days or else he would have gone back sooner) and walked the same route to the park. He sat all day under that same tree, too anxious about (hopefully) seeing her again to write anything or fully focus on his guitar. By the time the sun began setting, he was so discouraged by the lack of fiery women that he packed up his guitar, pulled out another cigarette, and lit it. He slowly began treading back to the train, thinking about how pretty she had been.
Her hair was such a delicate shade of blonde- not pale, not snowy or platinum or really that noticeable or individual, yet the way the brown mixed in with the yellow created the most beautiful color Michael had ever seen. He loved the way it was straight all the way to her mid back then curled ever so slightly on the ends. Her eyes were such an exquisite shade, not quite green, not blue either and not fully grey, but rather somewhere in between the three. He loved how her skin wasn't completely flawless; he loved the way her lips naturally turned downwards. He loved the way she cared so much about her local park and he loved how quick-tempered she was. She was a small person, but Michael could tell that her personality was huge.
"Hey! Cigarette Boy!"
Michael turned around to face the girl from the day before. He couldn't help the feeling of pleasure that teased his lips into a small smile at the sight of her. Today she wore black leggings and a red and black flannel, even though it was only September and not very cold.
"Can I help you?" Michael smirked, setting down his guitar.
"I thought I told you yesterday not to smoke here." She frowned.
"And I thought I told you that I'm going to live my life the way I wanted to." Michael replied smugly, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke into her face. She coughed and waved her hand in front of her fact.
"You can live your life, just not where it's going to kill me."
"Lighten up, Sweetheart. A little smoke won't kill you." Michael snorted.
"Shut it, Cigarette Boy, and get out of here." She retorted.
"Michael."
"What?"
"My name is Michael. You can stop calling me Cigarette Boy."
"I- Oh. Okay. I'm Lauren." She said. "I'm still going to call you Cigarette Boy, though."
"Then I guess I'll have to call you Beautiful." Michael replied, and with one last smirk, he turned on his heel and left Lauren standing there, jaw on the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Sacrilegious
Fanfiction//Sunday morning, wake up early, skip church service to find my Jesus. I know it sounds so sacrilegious, but I just don't belong in a place like that.\\ in which he's looking for true meaning and she disapproves of his smoking.
