Saving Adele's Heart.

The city of Montreal was one of fashion, culture and history. Most inhabitants knew how to speak both English and French, and were rather intelligent. The smell of coffee and cigars – the scented ones, because the Montreal Canadians were those who prided themselves of elegance and grace – were lingering in the air. There was a soft breeze throughout the city, carrying the hum of laughter, happiness and energy throughout the lands.

In one specific park, Parc Mont Royal, sat a young girl, around the age of sixteen, sitting on a wooden bench. Her dirty blonde hair was hanging in her eyes while she focused on the pencil in her long, girly fingers. In her worn sketch book, there were about nineteen drawings, and she'd only had this one for two weeks. At the moment, Adele was drawing the pond that stood a few feet away. Its ridges and curves distinct in the drawing. Happy people walked by, and a specific pair had been sitting down by the grass with a child who looked to be the age of four, playing with sail boats for hours.

Adele decided to include the family. She wished her family was that lovely.



Luke Wells was running in the very same park. He was jogging with a group of six friends from the track team. Sweat was streaming down his sculpted face, his smile wide because he was loving every bit of it. The adrenaline running through his veins. He ran through a familiar path and his eyes focused on a wooden bench where a girl sat with tears running down her porcelain face.

That's when he knew. He had to help her.