Before everything unfolded, my day began like any other, yet a subtle unease lingered beneath the surface. Waking up in my small apartment near the college, sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. The familiar sound of ocean waves in the distance always made me feel at home in California. I stretched, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and paused to appreciate the beauty of the day ahead.
After a quick shower, I dressed in my favorite outfit—high-waisted jeans that hugged my curves and a simple white top that accentuated my tan skin. I glanced in the mirror, adjusting my hair, which had a mind of its own with wild curls framing my face. Short, yes, but my confidence shone through, a reflection of my proud Cuban heritage. Despite my still-developing English, I embraced my vibrant spirit.
In the kitchen, I whipped up a quick breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, pouring myself a steaming cup of coffee. As I ate, my mind drifted to my classes. I was studying criminal justice, a field I was deeply passionate about. The thought of becoming a lawyer and advocating for those without a voice filled me with purpose. I understood the path ahead would be challenging, especially with my limited English, but I was determined to make a difference.
After breakfast, I grabbed my bag, double-checking that I had everything I needed—my notebooks, pens, and a few snacks. Stepping outside, the warm California sun enveloped me like a comforting embrace. I walked to campus, the streets buzzing with activity. Students were chatting, laughing, and rushing to their classes, creating an atmosphere of excitement that I found infectious.
As I approached the college, I noticed police cars parked nearby. A knot formed in my stomach as I overheard snippets of conversation about a murder that had occurred the night before. The tension in the air was palpable, and a shiver ran down my spine. I didn't know the details, but the sight of officers questioning students made me uneasy. Shaking off the dread, I focused on my studies, unwilling to let fear taint my day.
In my first class, I tried to concentrate, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the swirling rumors on campus. My professor discussed ethics in law enforcement, igniting a mix of fascination and dread within me. The complexities of crime and justice reminded me that the world wasn't always as safe as I wished to believe.
After classes, I decided to treat myself to some comfort food at a nearby café, hoping a little indulgence would help me escape the day's tension. The thought of delicious food felt like the perfect remedy.
Stepping into the café, the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries wrapped around me like a cozy blanket. The place was bustling, and I relished the sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. Standing in line, scanning the menu, I noticed a tall figure next to me—a striking guy with dark hair and an air of confidence that captivated me.
He stood close enough that I felt a flutter in my stomach when he smiled at me. "Hey," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "You waiting for food too?"
I turned, surprised yet intrigued. "¿Qué? Oh, um... yes!" I replied, my accent thick but sincere. "I'm... hungry. Food."
His grin widened, making it impossible not to smile back. There was something charming about him. "Yeah, me too. What's your name?"
"Monica," I said, feeling a rush of excitement. "What about you?"
"Nice to meet you, Monica. I'm just a guy looking for some good food." He spoke with such ease that it put me at ease too. I wanted to know more about him.
"I study criminal justice," I said, glancing back at the menu. "What do you do?"
"Just... trying to get by," he replied, vague yet intriguing. "You studying around here?"
YOU ARE READING
The Immortal Kiss
RomanceA cold, callous man drifts through life, marked only by a trail of bodies and the growing weight of his own emptiness. He lives without purpose, moving from one kill to the next, barely acknowledging the world around him. The money keeps coming, but...
