Tbh, I had realized that recently, I have forgotten the old fashioned 'Close your eyes and imagine this;' so I'll bring it back c:
Btw.
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Close your eyes and imagine this;
Hope.
It was a tattoo that appeared on my pale skin, right over my left ankle overnight on my eighteenth birthday. A single word, but it could mean so much more.
A tattoo that just appears without your consent isn't considered magic- its a symbol. Its a small hint towards your lover's last words to you before death. Depressing, I know, but at least you know that you will be with someone instead of spending eternity alone.
We met in a bookshop, when we both reached for the same book.
"Oh, I'm sorry-"
"No, go ahead. It's yours."
"You have it, it's okay-"
We were shushed by various people including the passing librarian, and we just giggled.
"So you have the same taste in books, huh? Fantasy mixed with a little bit of action and romance?" I asked, staring at the much shorter boy.
He nodded. "Yeah, I just can't get enough of Cassandra Clare's books, dude. They're fucking amazing,"
"I'll have to agree with you on that. But seriously, take the fucking book." I said, taking it down from the shelf and handing it to him.
The boy stared up at me in amazement. "Really? I mean, your hand touched it first, and I had to jump to get it..."
"Yeah. Take it," I replied with a smile. "I can probably find another one hidden around here somewhere."
For a while, he stared at me, before stating, "Frank. My name is Frank."
"I'm Gerard," I shook his hand, still grinning as I stepped off from the stepping stool, but he was still shorter than me. "There's this awesome coffeeshop nearby. Do you wanna grab some sometime? Or uh, now?"
Frank looked at me, biting his lip as he replied with, "Sure, why not?"
*~*~*
He set down his mug on the wooden table, creaking from it's age. "And the whole thing crashed down, y'know? It was awesome, though, but a little bit weird."
"Uh-huh," I said, sipping my coffee before setting my mug down as well.
From what I have gathered, Frank was a working musician, though he wasn't big, he still got noticed off of the streets. He didn't travel as much, staying in his little home and sometimes going to the record label that he worked for, occasionally bringing his guitar to play on his break.
He looked at his watch, eyes widening as he saw the time. "Awh, shit. I've gotta run, my girlfriend's gonna kill me. You want my number?"
"Sure, sure." My mind was still processing 'girlfriend', but after I gave him my number after he gave me his and watched him walk off, that's when it finally registered in my brain.
