Darling, Look at the Sparks

For some reason, I just don't want to get into detail about her and I. I'll admit, there was something special that I didn't see in Drella, or Maria, or Tegan. That thing about being numb was true. She was like, a walking zombie. I guess love does heal all. Even the invisible scars left on her body.

See, Isabell went through foster care for six years of her life. You can imagine how much stress that can put on a ten year old. Her parents died when she was just ten, they were murdered and she woke up in their bed. They were lying next to her, as lifeless as the bodies that lay in graves. She woke up covered in their blood, screaming for her life. Ever since then, she couldn't stand the sight of ketchup or horror movies. It just made her flip.

Okay. Now I can start from after I met her. You know most of everything. But if you think this story is as cliche as the other one's you've read, you're dead wrong. The thing is, Isabella has a tendancy to walk outside at night, alone. Says she's been alone for nine years, the only difference is that I'm around. Countless times I've found her with a cup of coffee in her hand and a pack of newport cigarettes. As I'm telling you this, my brain flashes over all the happiness there was betweens us.
*
After the concert, it started to rain, and I can tell the young beauty came alone. She ran offstage as people started to move out of the area. I ran over to her and shouted, "Hey, beautiful." And it's obvious she wouldn't turn around. Eventually, she did turn around, and she let me take her eat. Our hair was soaking wet and our sweaters felt like an ocean of ice. The steam that rose from the coffee was barely enough to warm my face. Isabella ordered a capuccino. I watched her dip her nose in it in attempt to warm her face as well. When she removed her nose from the cup, she had foam all over her nose.

I rose a finger to get rid of every bit of that cappuccino. She turned as red as a tomato when my thumb hit her nose. "What?" I asked her. She looked down at her hands that were covered in her grey sweater sleevers and let her face turn an even more violent shade of red. She looked up into the air and into my eyes. Her head started to turn sideways like she didn't understand me. Like I wasn't easy to read. "Why me?" She asked and smirked a little to where her one dimple revealed itself. "I'm drawn to you...and I have no idea how I got myself into this. How I became addicted to you with one glance." I explained to her.

I wanted to take her to meet the guys first, but we needed to get some rest. It was hitting eight o' clock. We arrived at my house and walked in slowly. She turned around as if she was a kindergartener in a Natural History Museum for the first time. I ran upstair while she made herself at home. I didn't know this girl, all I knew was that she was mine.

I ran back downstairs with a ton of blankets covering me. I tripped down the last maple colored stair and fell. I fell right into her lap, actually. I made myself comfortable by turning my face into a non tempting direction and she pulled all of my hair from my face to where you could see my forhead. "Sorry if I'm too ugly without my hair in the way." I apologized. "Victor, you look just fine." And she leaned down and kissed me slowly. So slow, that I wanted more. She meant that kiss, and I couldnt help but ask for another. I poked my lips out to prepare for when she'd kiss me again, but instead, she giggled at me. "Why are your lips still poked out?" She asked with a raised eyebrow and s mirk on her face. "Oh-uuh-I-uuh." I was totally embarrased.

She leaned down and kissed me again while running her fingers through my hair. Resting my head on her lap felt like we were something strong, something beautiful. "And your name is?" I asked. "Isabell." She replied, looking in my eyes with a sudden peaceful, satisfied smile. The things is, just because I'm telling you this story, like I was happy, and everything was so fucking sweet. Doesn't mean either of us made out alive.