I Need Your Love (Nathan Sykes fanfic)

Chapter 1- Meeting The Wanted

White lips, pale face

 Breathing in snowflakes

 Burnt lungs, sour taste

 Light's gone, day's end

 Struggling to pay rent

 Long nights, strange men

 

 And they say

 She's in the Class A Team

 Stuck in her daydream

 Been this way since eighteen

 But lately her face seems

 Slowly sinking, wasting

 Crumbling like pastry

The noises of the busy streets in San Diego buzz around as I walk, muffling my music. A see the tall sign above the towering building where my favourite radio station plays music daily.  Once close enough I switch to the radio station and shove my i-pod back into my hoodies pocket.

I climb up the rusty fire escape, up to the flat roof of the old structure. I walk around and then sit on the edge of the roof. My feet dangle above the loud street as I watch people go about their everyday life. The harsh breeze blows my long blonde curls into my face. I inch farther, and farther from the roof. This is it, the end of my misery.

“What the hell are you doing!?!” Someone shouts at me with his strong British accent. I turn my head slightly, seeing a boy with short brown hair, but I’m not sure what color his eyes are running towards me. He pulls me away from the edge of the roof by my aching arm with many bruises on it.

I pull my arm away and a loud hiss escapes my lips. My sweaters arms are slightly up on my arms and I pull them back down, not wanting him to see the large cuts lining them. “Don’t touch me!” I shout.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just saving your life!” He shouts back at me, and I try to sink back into my sweater.

“Sorry, just don’t hurt me.” I whimper.

“Hurt you? Why would I hurt you if I was saving your life?” He asks, slightly less harsh. My mind flashes back to last week.

“Why would I hurt you if I was saving your life, stupid child!” Mike’s voice shouts in my ear. He throws away my blade. “Why the hell would you cut yourself, moron!” He slaps my cheek, leaving a burning sensation.

“Please, leave me alone.” I whine.

“Shut up!” He punches my gut. “Why would you care if I hit you when you cut? Doesn’t make sense, does it?” He pushes me into the coat closet and locks me in, the hot muggy air already suffocating me.

“Hello?” His voice snaps me back to reality, but the memory is still playing threw my head. “I asked you a question, what were you doing?”

“What?” I ask confused.

“Before, at the edge of the roof.” I look away, and use my arms to cover my chest, the feeling that he’s reading me hovering over my head. “I thought so, I just didn’t want to believe it…” He says, disappointed? “Why? Why would you want to do that?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” I say quietly. And he really wouldn’t.  “How did you find me?”

“I saw you walking, then climbing up the fire escape, and then walking around the roof. I figured something wasn’t right.” He says. “Would you mind if I walked you home? I know that if I leave you’ll probably just do this again.” He gestures to the roof.