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Chapter I

Dedicated to SebastardMorgenstern because I love their stories so much.

"Watch where you're going the next time, you ignorant fool!" - Mister Tall, Dark and Handsome

Chapter I

Just my luck. Why did I have to oversleep? Harlynn, you are such an idiot! I cursed at myself under my breath. Forcing my legs to move faster and pushing people out of the way, muttering apologies as I went.

I made sure to avoid places as Times Square that is busy all day around, so I took side allays and less famous streets to reach my work. Alleys that most people wouldn't dare to cross.

One of the very few downsides of living in Manhattan is the fact that it is always so busy in the mornings, especially when you are late for work. My high heels clicked on the uneven ground of the street I was running on. It was a challenge to not fall over, but because I ran on heels so often I had gained experience with running around in heels.

I ran into another alley. The morning sun barely managing to shine over the tall buildings, casting me into darkness.

Clenching my purse closer to my chest, I gripped it tightly, while running as fast as I could through the streets of Manhattan, which I knew as well as my own home. I ran as fast as I could with heels and on an uneven ground, at least. Long, pale blonde hair whirled after me like a long golden cape. I checked my watch.

8:35, it read.

My work started at 8:30 and I still had roughly ten minutes to go before I would arrive. My boss would not be so happy with that.

I cursed under my breath once more and ran around the corner, past the bakery where they had those delicious lemon cakes. I went straight into another alley.

The smell of fresh-baked bread hit my nostrils, distracted me, making me run straight into another passerby, who seemed to be in a hurry as well.

A shriek left my mouth when we tumbled to the ground. The man - he was definitely male - landed on top of me with a startled yelp, clearly just as surprised as I was, crushing the air out of my lungs with his tall and heavy frame.

Looking up, I found myself looking into mesmerizing blue eyes who looked down at me in what seemed to be an honest surprise. The surprised look was gone soon though, like snow melting in the harsh sun of the summer heat. His look became more guarded, much more closed off, and colder.

He has beautiful eyes, I thought to myself, holding my breath. I have often seen people with blue eyes, but their eyes were mostly a lighter shade of blue. This guy has the darkest eyes I have seen so far, almost black, like the darkest night sky during a storm; without the guiding light from the stars, with hints of deep violet in their depths.

All my muscles tensed up, the blood draining from my face. There was something about his gaze that unnerved something deep within me. A gut feeling that warned me about this guy. His eyes held knowledge beyond my imagination, and a world of loss and pain.

What startled me the most about his eyes was not their unusual color, but the amount of hatred that seemed to be carved deep into his very soul.

Nobody should be able to feel that much hatred.

Life is short, so how is it possible that this man seemed to carry the hatred of centuries within himself?