He wilted on the sidewalk, gnawing his knuckles in frustration.
She was nowhere to be found.
Shit.
His hand ran through the mess of bedridden hair atop his head; what was he supposed to do now?
She's definitely gone. Kit's the impatient type; she won't wait even without a flight to catch.
That girl, she'd just sprouted this on him this morning (with a text), and proceeded to break up with him (with a text). She told him she's going to the big apple. He knew well how random she can be, but not to an extent of suddenly flying off to New York, without even a word to him.
What the heck?
He couldn't reach her number; the apartment she rented was vacated. It was like she disappeared off the face of earth. He didn't even get a chance to ask for her boarding time. He tried all her friends; they were useless.
Gabe had shot him a text earlier, saying he saw Kit around here, and it didn't look like she was leaving anytime soon. Of course, being the idiot he was, he jumped off the bus to the airport and sprinted like mad here. And ended up, unfortunately, Kit-less.
Hitching his guitar bag up, he inserted a hand into his pocket and slumped his way through the crowd. At this time, the square was packed with people—so much he was displaced from the sidewalk to the opposite pavement without walking.
He meandered aimlessly around with unfocused eyes; the fact that his girlfriend had just broken up with him still hasn't properly registered.
For some reason or another, he caught his gaze wandering the crowd, searching for a tiny frame with a mob of purple streaked hair. Her familiar petite silhouette was the one thing his eyes won't not recognize.
The familiar scene of the square blurred before his eyes. The glint of the afternoon sun reflected back on the window displays blinked like a kaleidoscope of colour back at him.
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a flash of purple winking at him.
He paused.
Purple.
His eyes closed.
Purple.
Pulse raced.
Purple hair.
Hands fisted.
He bit his lips hard enough to taste blood. "Goddamnit."
He didn't even feel the chafing friction of his sneakers against the rough pavement as he swerved a hundred-eighty turn back.
He ran.
Her hair.
His guitar thumped against his back.
It was purple.
He definitely saw purple hair reflected on the display window.
He elbowed his way across the gushing river of people.
Where was she?
He faced the huge monument scraping the clouds. He turned towards the dainty shops sitting along the alley. He tore towards the sidewalk. The café? The mall? The square? Alcove Street? Where?
"Damnit." He bit out, scrubbing his hair roughly. "I saw her. I definitely saw. Kit. Where are you?" He clenched his teeth.
Desperation clawed at him.
He rolled his gaze skyward.
A ribbon of purple flashed at the edge of his sight. Purple.
"Kit."
