When Boy Meets Girl

It was raining especially hard that afternoon in the busy streets of London. My tiny umbrella provided little protection against the storm. The downpour blurred my vision as I hurried across the street, longing to get back to my flat and just lie down. Breakups were never easy and it seemed almost too cliche for it to start pouring on an especially depressing day like this. The only good thing about the rain was that it covered up my tears. I tried to rid my mind of sadness as I got closer to my flat. Just as I was about to begin my trek up the stairs, someone ran into me, knocking me to the wet sidewalk. In the scramble to get up, my umbrella managed to blow away completely. Now standing, I brushed some leaves of off my soggy trench coat. I could feel my hair sticking to my face and my eyes burned as makeup flowed freely into them.

"Great, Just great," I mumbled, too weary to get upset.

"I am so sorry," the stranger said apologetically. At least he sounded somewhat sincere. I allowed myself to look up, trying to forget how hideous I must've appeared at that moment. When I realized who it was, I nearly fell again. I took in the familiar blond hair and blue eyes, that melting smile that made you feel tingly on the inside. Aware I was blushing wildly, I turned away quickly.

"Do you need any help?" Niall Horan asked me politely.

"No I'm fine, I think," I answered stupidly.

"Well, I let you go then, sorry!" With one last flip of his damp hair, he continued on his way. I stared at him until he was just a tiny speck in the distance and reality hit me like a truck. I had almost forgotten that I was standing in the middle of a storm.

I fumbled around with my keys for a couple minutes before I was able to unlock the door to my flat. My hands were shaking violently from excitement and because I was absolutely freezing. As soon as I got inside, I passed out on the couch.