t w e n t y - s e v e n

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k a d e  /  t w e n t y - s e v e n

Her presence puts me at ease.

Dusk is falling, the evening turning the sky into pretty colors; shades of orange and pink blending into blue. Mia sits in the passenger seat, her dark hair falling over her shoulders in waves, eyes so dark brown they're enchanting.

I haven't said much yet and neither has she, and while one would think that the silence is stifling and uncomfortable, it's anything but. I drive, through the wet streets and bright lights that turn blurry through the misty window* of my car, until I reach the building of Greenwood's old library.

A huge building that was once a house, it's become the town library that hardly anyone ever goes to. It's so abandoned that the librarians have stopped coming, which leaves the library with shelves of old musty books with the stamps inside dating back to a century ago. The huge doors of the library remain open, but no one knows. Besides me, I suppose.

Not that I go to the library to read books. I stumbled across this place a year or so ago, and was immediately attracted to the roof of the building, which is high and shows all of Greenwood. If you look into the distance, you can see the bright lights, the cloudier skies, an actual city in the distance.

As the sun is setting now, I take Mia's hand, her fingers instinctively wrapping around mine. I lead her to the back of the building, where a smaller wall is built. Placing my foot on the wall, I swing myself up to the roof, watching Mia's expression as the muscles in my biceps flex.

She's so flipping cute, the way her eyes widen, a definite flush taking over her cheeks.

Once I'm up onto the roof, I hold out my hand for Mia, helping her onto the roof. The view that meets us as we stand up, dusting our hands on our jeans, takes my breath away. As the rain has mostly subsided, leaving a slight drizzle, the sky is stunning.

Mia's eyes light up as she sees the pretty colors, and I swear, there's nothing I want to do more than to reach out and trace my fingers over her face; see if she's real.

She's an angel, but she's not mine.

Turning around, Mia looks at me, her eyes meeting mine. I can barely hear her breathe atop the sound of my heart beating so flipping loud. And when she takes a step closer, eyes never leaving mine?

What is this girl doing to me?

Mia wraps her arms around my neck, her vanilla scent subtle and beautiful and I breathe in, closing my eyes. Having her so close to me, damn.

She makes everything fade and the noise soften and silences my demons. And when Mia and I sit on one of the ledges of the roof, knees touching, I tell her about Dad and about my future and about street fighting. We don't talk about Kade Lawson or the party last night or the brunette, Larissa.

We don't talk about us or what we're supposed to be. We're just strangers who found ourselves in each other's stories, and the other details don't have to matter right now.

. . .

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