Shortness of Breath [songfics]

Keep me Crazy by Chris Wallace

You were an angel on the run

That I caught somehow;

For a minute, I thought I could see stars. Like in one of those children’s cartoons when the character bumps it’s head badly and a gleaming spiral of gold is whizzing around the exaggerated lump that forms. But I knew that I was just mesmerised; mesmerised by the intensity of the beauty of the blonde in front of me. Fortunately, she seemed dazzled for a while as well.

      “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, leaping off of my lap. Alas, due to her clear unlucky aura, the train abruptly stopped once more, and she fell straight back onto me. In an extremely cute way, she squeaked and jumped off. I grabbed her hand to steady her just in case she tripped again. At this gesture of kindness, her gorgeous cheeks flushed fuchsia.

I tried so hard to figure you out.

But baby you're a pretty little mystery

That makes no sense to me

      “It’s alright,” I eventually managed to say. To reassure her that I wasn’t a threat, I extended the hand that wasn’t in hers and introduced myself. “I’m Ollie.”

      To my utter surprise, Blondie’s shocking-green eyes traced the outline of my body before returning to face my gaze and – would you believe it – wink.

      I waited for a minute for her to introduce herself, but only silence remained. “So what’s your name?” I asked, the anticipation killing me. Blondie’s brow furrowed as if she was in thought. “Forgotten it?” I teased. She rolled her eyes and shook her head simply.

      “No, I know it. You won’t.”

      And on that bombshell, the train’s wheels ceased spinning and she got off, tugging her scarf over her head. My mouth wide open, I raced to the other side of the train to see her go. How the hell did the charm not work on her?! I wondered as her swaying figure faded into the crowd of busy-bodies and workaholics. Never had that happened before then. Never.

You got me staying up all night, burning inside

The voices in my head won’t quit

      That same night, I was back in my apartment with my pillow slammed on top of my head and my desk chair propped up against the door to keep it closed. However much I loved Paul (my roommate), I required peace for my thoughts. Oh, and those thoughts? Every single one that was passing through my brain was about that one girl with the long, thick, blonde waves and grey winter scarf. Little Miss Blondie McScarfingtons was taking over my whole life, and I’d met her literally one hour and twenty-nine minutes ago.

      What’s worse was that Paul couldn’t keep going on about some girl named Meg who he’d chatted up in some random pub with the assistance of his ‘much more trustworthy’ wingman, Mike. Apparently, Meg’s hair was a rich, vibrant titian; Meg was an intelligent librarian who went to university; Meg was this; and Meg was that. Frankly, after two minutes with Paul, I felt like I could write Meg’s biography!

I may be losing my mind and going insane

But I put up with your... Ha ha

      Also, an incurable itch down on my lower back had been begging for mercy since the train ride, and it was beginning to get extremely tempting to scratch it.

      Except, when I finally gave in to my temptations, I felt a piece of paper.

      Someone obviously overly cruel had stuffed a piece of paper up my shirt.