Window Seats
On Vincent II
I walked slowly down the street, it was an early Friday morning and the streets were full of people, making it almost impossible to walk through the streets without shoving people out of my way. The underground was probably going to be full by the time I got onto the platform and I was dreading having to stand the whole ride to Willow.
I smiled as I spotted a seat next to the window, I might had accidentally pushed a small woman out of the way as I hurriedly walked over to the empty seat.
I remained sitting there, bored from the fact I had left my iPod on my bedside drawer, until I felt someone occupy the seat next to me. The smell of vanilla, cologne and smoke quickly made its way to me as I turned my head and saw the man that had sat next to me three days ago. His hair wasn't parted and gelled as it had been before, but instead seemed to lie haphazardly upon his head. It was at this time that I had the chance to get a clear look at his face, his cherub cheeks, strong jaw showing that he had not shaved that morning, and his large blue eyes under thick lashes. He was beautiful I had to admit, in the way only movie stars from your grandparent's days seemed to be. He pulled out a small notebook and began writing.
He threw the small piece of paper on my lap and quickly looked away. My eyebrows arched in confusion as I carefully unfolded the small note and read his messy handwriting.
I’m Vincent it read messily in red ink.
He quickly tapped my shoulder and made motions that I could only guess were for asking to have the note back, I frowned as I handed the note back and tried to peek over his hand to see what he was adding to the note.
Vincent II I read as he handed it back, I chuckled as I noted the only change was him adding the fact his father was also named Vincent, and at the fact he felt that it was an extremely important detail to his name.
I tapped his shoulder and motioned for a pen, he smiled before grabbing his pen and handing it over. As he did I caught a small glimpse of a tattoo on his wrist that made itself visible under his coat’s sleeve.
Annabel Lee I wrote down in what I felt was my best handwriting, a blatant difference from his almost childish scrawl.
He chuckled as he read the note and handed it back, nothing new written on it. I carefully folded it again and placed it inside my oversized bag; he chuckled again as he saw the size of the bag. Jane for some reason had pressured me to get a huge bag, she said now that we were in the fashion business I had to fit the mold and that entailed owning a huge bag in which I carried nothing more than a phone, gum, and a wallet.
He shook his head before looking back to his notebook and writing something down quickly. He smiled again as he threw the small note towards my hands.
Goodbye Annabel
I quickly looked up as I read the note to say goodbye but as soon as I did, he was out of the doors. I sighed as I placed the new note in my bag, zipped it up, and waited for the next stop.
I smiled as I spotted a seat next to the window, I might had accidentally pushed a small woman out of the way as I hurriedly walked over to the empty seat.
I remained sitting there, bored from the fact I had left my iPod on my bedside drawer, until I felt someone occupy the seat next to me. The smell of vanilla, cologne and smoke quickly made its way to me as I turned my head and saw the man that had sat next to me three days ago. His hair wasn't parted and gelled as it had been before, but instead seemed to lie haphazardly upon his head. It was at this time that I had the chance to get a clear look at his face, his cherub cheeks, strong jaw showing that he had not shaved that morning, and his large blue eyes under thick lashes. He was beautiful I had to admit, in the way only movie stars from your grandparent's days seemed to be. He pulled out a small notebook and began writing.
He threw the small piece of paper on my lap and quickly looked away. My eyebrows arched in confusion as I carefully unfolded the small note and read his messy handwriting.
I’m Vincent it read messily in red ink.
He quickly tapped my shoulder and made motions that I could only guess were for asking to have the note back, I frowned as I handed the note back and tried to peek over his hand to see what he was adding to the note.
Vincent II I read as he handed it back, I chuckled as I noted the only change was him adding the fact his father was also named Vincent, and at the fact he felt that it was an extremely important detail to his name.
I tapped his shoulder and motioned for a pen, he smiled before grabbing his pen and handing it over. As he did I caught a small glimpse of a tattoo on his wrist that made itself visible under his coat’s sleeve.
Annabel Lee I wrote down in what I felt was my best handwriting, a blatant difference from his almost childish scrawl.
He chuckled as he read the note and handed it back, nothing new written on it. I carefully folded it again and placed it inside my oversized bag; he chuckled again as he saw the size of the bag. Jane for some reason had pressured me to get a huge bag, she said now that we were in the fashion business I had to fit the mold and that entailed owning a huge bag in which I carried nothing more than a phone, gum, and a wallet.
He shook his head before looking back to his notebook and writing something down quickly. He smiled again as he threw the small note towards my hands.
Goodbye Annabel
I quickly looked up as I read the note to say goodbye but as soon as I did, he was out of the doors. I sighed as I placed the new note in my bag, zipped it up, and waited for the next stop.