Bad-boy + good-girl = heartache or perfect match

I’m just close enough to smell his leather jacket and breathe the same air and I’m finding it very difficult to draw my gaze from his.    

‘You have the strangest eyes I’ve ever seen,’ he looks into my eyes quizzically.

Concern overwhelms me. ‘Oh.’ My heart falls to the floor… strange… is that a good thing or a bad thing?

‘I could have sworn they were green, but now they’re grey…’

‘Oh, I’m tired, that’s all,’ I say stupidly.

He grins. ‘Of course you’re tired, we’ve partied hard tonight.’

I think back briefly to us dancing and now I am grinning like the local town idiot.

‘I don’t usually party, at all. I don’t drink and I don’t really like pubs.’ Could I say anything more stupid? He’s the singer of a rock band. And I have just told him I’m a boring nut-case. I’m a soon-to-be twenty-one year old single girl who works as a secretary in a medical centre. I spend my spare time reading romance books and painting pretty scenery of the places I am too afraid to travel to. I feel breathless as he continues staring at me.

‘No pubs?’ he says cocking his head to the side. ‘Well, I hope this changes, or we’ll hardly see each other.’

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Destiny is that Devine intervention which plans out our life events, isn’t it? Is Valentine her Forever or a life Lesson?

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Mich xx

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