"Are you Eva Queen?" I ignored the deep voice. I had honestly got enough of the students asking me that question when it is so obvious. "I'm Henry," He oh-so-awkwardly said. "So ah, you are a bad girl?" God, just shut up already. "I just assumed you were since you have a leather jacket and a smoke dangling out of your mouth." I trod on my cigarette and turned around. "You ar-are hot, i mean no, oh god just forget i ever talked to you. Did that offend you? I'm sorry. I'm embarrassing myself, aren't i?" The nerdy guy with round glasses said while scratching his head. "What the actually fuck?" - Eva is depressed, well so depressed she isn't afraid of death anymore. She doesn't think she deserve to live, not after what she did to her family that got them killed. Then suddenly she got a friend and now she's not so sure she want to die anymore.
A girl who wanted nothing but to fall.
A boy who knew nothing but to rise.
Cheryl Faun and Tristan Tanner had their differences.
Knowing each other since kindergarten, the two never really communicated properly. Or, well, Cheryl pushed Tristan away with any chance she got. A regular day to them would be a faceless girl trying to commit suicide, and a sunshine boy rescuing her before the gates of hell.
In the past 12 years, nothing changed.
Absolutely nothing.
And when something happens, something completely outrageous and compelling, the two are pushed together closer than they've ever been before. Too close, maybe. But, this didn't change anything. It COULDN'T change anything.
Right?
If fate had other plans for them, could everything go TOTALLY wrong?
Obviously...
~~~
"Stop.. trying to kill yourself!" He retorted. His eyes closed, and he began ranting. "I don't LIKE it when you think it's a good idea to KILL yourself. I don't LIKE seeing you in pain. I don't LIKE saving you because it breaks me every time your eyes seem to lull me to sleep!"
I still couldn't say anything. His hands grabbed my face, and I felt him leaning in even more, his lips a mere centimeter away from mine. His eyes were still closed, but I felt a pain behind his breathing. Every small twitch and shiver from him sent a lightning bolt down my spine. He was holding up a wall, and wouldn't let anyone tear it down. My hands moved up a little, and I grabbed his arms. Water was streaming down my face- I couldn't tell if it were tears or the ocean- and he opened his eyes. The emerald green met my grey eyes, and I looked at him, letting him stare at the fallen tears.
"If you hate it that much," I whispered, "Leave me here to die."
Tristan's eyes gleamed in response, and he leaned over, saying, "As if that'll ever happen."
[SEQUEL: LOADING GAME]
[ DISCLAIMER: This concept was developed during my middle school years. I understand how underdeveloped the plot is. ]