Murder, murder, murder

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                                                                                    Bella

«Poetic Realism became an official program of the "pseudonym poets" of the 1860s, including Carl David of Wirsén..»

My eyes drifted to the wall above the professor who was going on and on about the period of «Poetic realism». 09:59 was the exact time and  i watched the corner of my macbook screen closely to take the exact note of one minute. The lecture had been passing by dreadfully slow. My mind constantly drifting back to the man i had met. Lorenzo. His name reminded me of one of the Italian characters i would watch in action movies and silently wish didnt die, even if it was the « bad guy».

«That was everything for the lecture today, do remember to..» As the words were uttered from the professors voice, i stood up and walk out of the hall. Not bothering to stay and listen to him rant about another assigment.

Not only was university AND the work taking a toll on me, but i also felt really sick. After the day Lorenzo dropped me off, i woke up with a horrible head ache. My throath was hoarse making my voice more sultry than usual. I was walking towards the bus station when i was pulled back into a firm chest. I looked up at James as he smiled cheekily. The way home went by surprisingly slow too. My head was aching badly and James had offered to take my shift.

«I would feel too bad Jamie» i pouted as i looked into his eyes that held immense worry.

«Well, i dont care. We are friends, baby. Remember?» he said as a small smile appeared on his face. I could still see the worry in his eyes so i just nodded not in the mood to talk.

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I dumped my purse on the sofa and threw myself on the pillows. What a tiring night. I layed there for a couple of minutes as i checked my phone. No important messages. I dragged myself to switch on the tv as i changed my clothes into pajamas. A bad habit of mine, which i really didnt mind. Why should i not be comfortable at every moment if i have the choice to be, right?

« A boy age 19 found dead in the alley downtown last night» The news reporter said as she started informing about how the murder had happened because of gang related activities. I shook my head as i sighed in disbelief. The world really is fucked up isnt it?

«The murderer is yet to be found; however several reports are targeting...» I changed the channel, not wanting to hear more about the incident. I browsed through several series before landing o none; Vampire Diaries. What can be better than to dream about Damon Salvatore?

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A ringing voice startled me from sleep. I groaned as I picked up my phone. This better be important.

"Hello?" I said, as my hoarse voice was shadowed the pillows I had stuffed infront of my face. I cringed at my own voice as I sat up straight and said another "Hey", hoping for it to be better than my first.

"Did you check the news, Bels?" James whispered. I could only imagine Anne, our boss, keeping an eye out on him. Anne was a nice lady, but strict. Really strict.

"No, why?" I asked as I leaned forward to grab the control to pause the serial.

"A man was found dead in the parking lot!" he shrieked louder.

"I heard, isn't it sick James? I wonder if the murderer just wakes up and decide to" I was cut short when James decided to stop my rant.

"It was the parking lot outside the café, Bella!" he said clearly this time. "He was found last night, but they say that he was killed the day before that. You really were right when you said that this place is scary". I ocassionaly hummed a "yes" as he started giving me updates of how the police where investigating the place and all that.

"Hey! Wasn't that the day I left earlier because of my exam and you closed the café?"

As if in a movie, I swear a memory of his face came into my mind. His cool toned brown hair slightly damp and darker from the rain, matching the colour of his thick eyelashes that adorned his eyes. His eyes, a beautiful colour of brown. Never had I ever thought that a brown in the shade of his could be so beautiful. How his sharp jawline portrayed edginess while being paired up with his plump pink lips that rolled each word as if it was a prayer; "When my eyes catch an addiction, it isn't easy to let go of it"

"BELS! DID YOU DIE?!"

James voice was nothing compared to the chaos in my brain.

"Fuck" 

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