Til death do we part

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“To Love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.” –TMI

“No”

That short lettered word meant a lot, I cried harder, but I can’t accept his proposal. I just can’t.

Erik slowly stood up; his eyebrows are almost meeting in the middle, his Amber eyes looking straight at me with confusion and pain.  “I’m sorry Erik, but I can’t marry you.” I don’t know what else to say, or do and so I just stood there looking straight at his pained eyes that are looking back at mine. I have always loved those eyes, so unique, so beautiful and is now in so much pain. I can’t take it anymore. I walked closer to him, grabbed my luggage and kissed him in the cheek and whispered, “I love you and I’m sorry.” Then I walked away and never looked back.

It kills me not to look at him but I did not look back, I just walked straight to the exit and rode a cab back home.

~

“My giggles are so silly, it always pitches higher when I’m about to shut up. It’s ugly.” I told Erik, he just smiled at me, his retainers showing. He always loved the way I giggle. He always told me that it makes me even prettier and real. At the age of 16, I can say already say that Erik is my true love. Sure, we’re too young well, I’m too young to admit this, but I know it’s real and it’s what my gut pushes me to think and want.

I remembered the blessed day, when I went to England to visit my grandmother, grandma’s apartment is a block away from daunt books, my favorite place in the world. There it is, in front of Walden house, nos. 83 and 84 my paradise. I’ve brought a venti cup of macchiato and I planned on buying a new book, read it while drinking but there is no seat left. I stood there waiting for these people to leave but they just won’t. I’m halfway in finishing my drink when an old woman finally stood up on the other side of the room, I ran considering that someone might steal that glorious spot and right when I’m about to take the chair to seat, someone oh so gloriously sat down and spilled my macchiato, my ­new book is so wet and stained while my shirt is soaking. Who the fuck does he think he is?

 He just smiled at me showing his perfect white teeth with retainers, I don’t get it why people even use it if they have no problems in their teeth his Amber eyes glinting with mischief. “Sorry miss”

That’s it? My shirt and book is ruined and just a sorry? I don’t know what else to say so I slapped him square in the face. “Asshole” His smile dissimilated after it, I walked out and halfway through the isle, he grabbed my arm “I’m sorry miss, I’ll buy you a new book and coffee.” I nodded; my 12 pounds ain’t going to shit. After he paid, I whispered a thank you and left. As I got out the shop, I remembered that my shirt is wet, and I felt the cool British air brushing against my skin. It’s so cold, it’s always cold here. Suddenly, a coat was draped around my shoulders; it’s the guy that spilled my coffee. “Yeah, I still need to buy you a new shirt and coffee.” He smiled at me dragging my wrist straight to the nearest clothing shop. He bought me a grey shirt with faded lightning strikes printed on it with the words, ‘A shocking true story’ that was a size bigger than me, I love it. I thanked him again and we headed straight to Starbucks for a cup of coffee. We never had a chance to talk, I don’t even know his name, and for a second I realized that this guy that bought me a cup of coffee, a new book and a new shirt is a complete stranger to me, maybe because he looks the same age as me.

“I’m Erik. Sorry for being an asshole, uh, I guess.” He smiled at me again; I guess it’s his way of saying ‘peace’. Oh, he’s not British. “You’re not British?” He took a sip of his coffee and said, “Yeah how’d you know?” he smiled at me again fixing his posture to lean on the table closer. “Well apart from your accent being ass not arse, I think you like coffees better than tea.” He just nodded.