Wanderlust

Chapter 1

I was sitting in a chair outside of a small café in Paris. The streets were bustling with cars and people, the city was so alive. I was reading my favorite book, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, and a cup of tea was sitting in front of me. It was a beautiful day in Paris, the sun was shining and there was a faint breeze blowing. There were so many people wandering the streets and almost every table outside the café was full. That was one of the things I loved most about Europeans; on especially nice days, they would sit outside cafe's for hours, drinking tea or coffee, catching up with friends or just watching the people walk by. I was engrossed in my book when a strong gust of wind blew the bookmark right out of my hand. I quickly looked up up and watched as the bookmark landed several tables away. I gently sat down my book, carefully marking the page I was on, and made my way over to my bookmark. I picked it up and quickly turned around. When up turned around, my face was pressed into a fuzzy jacket; it felt like a North Face jacket, it was so soft. I quickly pulled back once once it dawned on me that I had ran into someone. I began to stammer through an apology, not looking up from the black jacket in front of me. When I did look up, my eyes locked with a gorgeous pair of green ones. My heart fluttered in my chest and my breathing quickened. The man in front of me was gorgeous; he was tall, around 6'00", he had black, curly hair, and and an incredible jawline. The stranger smiled at me, a dazzling white smile, and and then parted his lips to speak.

"Charlotte," the man said.

Oh, his accent was wonderful. He had a deep voice and the way he said my name was mesmerizing-- Wait a minute, he said my name. How does he know my name?

"Charlotte," he said again. This time the accent started to fade and the smile on his lips disappeared-- What the hell is going on? How does he know my name?

"Charlotte," he yelled this time. He then grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me, repeatedly saying my name. The people around us stopped what they were doing, and just watched him shake me and just scream at me. I began to scream at him to get off, and I pushed and clawed at his chest, frantically trying to get away. The stranger finally let go of me and I fell to the ground. That was when I woke up in my English class.