Blood Ink

2. First meet gone wrong

"Thank god it isn't raining," the young man sighed, staring at the sky. Clad in a trench coat and a beret, adjusting his round spectacles, he viewed left and right before stretching an arm for a cab. One arm holding a bag, the other holding a briefcase.

He sat inside a cab that stopped, and locked the door.

"Geretee ferry station, please," he asked the driver, and started staring at the window, watching the raindrops slide down the window. He led out a loud sigh. He took out a book from his bag, and started reading.

"You don't seem from around here, sir?" The driver tried to strike a conversation. The young man peeked from his above his spectacles, and smiled at him.

"Yes, I'm not from around here. I stay in Paris."

"Ah, I see. So, were you visiting someone here?"

"Yes. An old friend."

"Okay; so do you come here so often?"

The passenger led out a long sigh. He wanted to say 'no', but something within him didn't let him say it out aloud.

"Yes; yes I come here often. I like it in here,"he said, glancing back and forth at the window and the driver.

"London is a place where people draw inspiration from. The clothes, the food, the air; everything has its own magic. Even the love is here."

The young man stared outside the window. Yes, everything has its own magic. There was always something that bugged him. Love. He had everything-a sweet sister, a few good friends. What he lacked was a lover. Why was it so hard to find the true love that he deserved? Why was it always hard to let go?

Sighing deeply, the young man dived back into reading. What the wind knows. The young man was deeply moved by that poignant love story. If war couldn't stop Anne to find love, what's gonna stop him? Men were good. Not all men.

".... so, we decided to try it all over again." The cab driver finished. The young man just gave a quick glance at the driver and smiled to himself. At least, he's blessed with love in his life.

The driver stopped the cab. The young man paid his fare and left. He looked around himself. Wow, I'll be finally home. He looked up. The sky was clear. The clouds. Yes, the clouds. One day, a butterfly; the next day, it just stares and flies.

While staring up and walking, he didn't realise where he went, and bumped into someone. One way went his book, the other way went his suitcase.

"Sorry sir, I didn't see where I was going..."the man looked in front of him. It was a person worth the second look. Long hair falling on his face, nose scrunched, showing his sense of distaste for the person who caused him to fall. The fallen passenger took his beret from the ground and went towards the other male.

"Hey, I'm fine; go away." The older male growled. The man just stepped behind, muttering a small "sorry", picked up his suitcase, and his book and went away, not leaving without a second glance to the older male, who was now on both his feet. He looked at him once again. The man looked a bit older, not much; maybe a year or two. But he would be damned if he was lying-he was handsome.