Harmony's POV: Anger. That's what I felt when I saw his face. The fact that he had the nerve to show up here is unbelievable.
"Hey, beautiful." A velvet voice came from behind me with such flowing ease that if I didn't know better I would fall for it again. That's what got me the first time, that voice. Although, I guess I should start at the beginning.
I was 16 the first time I saw him. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a baby blue shirt that matched his eyes so perfectly that you would think it was specially made. His eyes weren't what caught my attention though. I was standing in a field of the most beautiful red rose bushes I'd ever seen. Breathing in their mesmerizing scent when suddenly my trance was broken by the most fluid voice.
"NO," the voice said with a brute force that didn't match its beauty in the slightest.
I turned to see who it belonged to and our eyes met. "Forget it" he murmured to the tour guide he had just shouted at. He started towards me and I felt his gaze bore into me. He stopped less than two feet from me and leaned in. For a moment I truly thought this strangers lips would meet mine, but then he just smirked and pulled away. He brought his hand up and in it was a gorgeous deep red rose.
" Beautiful flower for a beautiful girl" he said, in a thick English accent I hadn't noticed before, as he handed me his newfound treasure. For a moment I was lost in the novelty of it all. A dashing man with an intriguing accent was standing before me, offering me my favorite flower while in such an enchanting setting.
"You aren't supposed to pick the roses," I finally stammered. He laughed and although it's beauty was undeniably it didn't make me any less taken aback.
"What's so funny?" I asked, not holding back the bite in my words.
"Your innocence," He replied without missing a beat
"I'm not innocent" I said, trying to put a more grown up expression on my face,
"It isn't a bad thing" He retorted with a small chuckle as he took another step towards me and brushed back one of my blonde curls. My heart skipped a beat as his hand brushed against my cheek. He was so close that I could feel his breath move across my flushed completion. I looked up at him, my emerald eyes meeting his blue ones, and I felt myself beginning to fall for this charming stranger. The moment ended much too soon as the tour guide blew his whistle and we were forced to move on. I took the rose from his other hand and began running to catch up with the rest of the group.
I didn't see the man from the tour after that. I continued my trip and tried my best not to think about him. I found this task almost impossible. I couldn't stop thinking about the how deep his eyes were, and how he made me feel when I thought we were going to kiss, but mostly it was his voice that was stuck in my head. Something about it made my heart pound and my breathing get shallow. No one had ever made me feel like this before. The effect he had on me was intense and scary. If just one conversation made me feel this way I could only imagine how kissing him would feel. And I did imagine it. Over and over again I imagined how it would feel, what the setting would be, and if it would turn into more than just a kiss. I didn't even know this man's name and I couldn't keep him out of my thoughts. It made me sad to think that I may never see him again. My fears were cast out only two days later.
Ok so this was the first piece I've written in a while and I would love some feedback. Positive, negative, indecisive, whatever. I want to know what you guys are thinking. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I really appreciate it. Comment if you want me to continue this.
