Hearts Crossing

Crossing the street of love? Challenge accepted!

Two figures spotted in an outdoor cafe in the heart of Paris, sitting in one of the tables, facing the street. They were Jane and Peter, best friends, two high school students who agreed to skip the last class of the day. Math was boring as always. Who would you kidding? Both were the top students as well as the most rebellious teenagers. Jane was the school's sweetheart; her beauty could catch every heart of the male population while Peter was no different; he was the school’s heartthrob, great in both sports an academic. Well, he was the prince charming every girl wanted.

What made them so close? Their fathers were colleagues. Both were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Being friends since childhood. Truth was they had no other friends; their social status made it hard for them to make friends with persons outside the elite circle. Rumors spread the entire school that they were dating, but always denied it. "Me and Peter? No way!" that was what Jane always said when being asked about it. Peter was calmer and just answered the question with a shrug and an easy smile plastered on his handsome face, made it more mysterious.

They had food before them and they should eat but they simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to observe the people crossing the street.

“Look at that girl. She’s way too serious, and with all those wrinkles I think she’ll end up a gold miss soon.” Jane commented to the man beside him.

Peter chuckled, “You’re mean. Maybe she’ll be married soon.” He gave the girl a look then shook his head. “On second thought.” They both laughed.

“But do you know that there’s a story about this street?” Jane asked while nibbling on a chicken leg.

“Ah yes, I heard that story. They said now if you cross the street, something will happen to you.”

Jane nodded her head. “Is it a bad thing? I don’t like something like that to happen to me.”

“No, nothing bad. But they said if you want to find love, all you have to do is stay at the other end of the street. Close your eyes and pray. When you open your eyes, the person standing directly in front of you across the street, that’s the person for you.” Peter explained a bit. He helped himself with the food.

“Hmm…it sounds like a fairytale some people would believe in. But do you know the theory that if a couple crosses this same street they’d be together forever?”

“Is that even true? That’s just a story Jane. Nothing serious.” Peter could be so careless about this fairy tale thing.

“Wanna try it? Maybe you’ll get yourself a girlfriend!” Jane excitedly told Peter.

“Don’t wanna. It’s just so childish. We’re already in high school. And I’m a man, what kind of true gentleman doing something so absurd and childish like that?”

“Ah you’re no fun! I’ll try to cross this street then. You wait here and see ok?” Jane was already standing, be ready to cross the street.

“No, I’m going to get myself a cup coffee. Do your stupid thing alone, don’t involve me.”

“Boys these days. Okay, but don’t get jealous when I meet my destined love who is way more handsome than you!” Jane shouted to Peter while sticking her tongue out like a five years old.

“Never!” The evil smirk never left Peter’s face.

Heart’s beating so fast, Jane was slowly crossing the street. Thankful that the street was empty, otherwise she would end up in a hospital because of a car accident. She slowly closed her eyes. She didn’t know why but now, she was feeling at ease and content. Now she was already at the other side of the street. She opened her eyes. Her eyes widened in surprise. What she saw was no one other than Peter, standing handsomely across the street with a cup of coffee in his left hand. Their gaze met. Could it be?

Maybe the story about the street giving one person their loved one was true. Who would complain about that? Who would complain indeed? This is Paris after all, la ville d'amour; the city of love.

~End~

PS: I was google-ing about Parisian street cafe and found lots of cozy looking cafe then suddenly I want to write a story with the Parisian street cafe as the background. The tale about the street is totally my imagination :p  Write this in 3 hours, hope it's good enough to read. Thx for dropping by and read this awful short story :)

Paper Heart

Anne met the love of her life the day she got her heart broken. 

................................................................ 

A boy put the paper heart into his pocket and pulled out a pack of tissue. He handed it over a young girl.

"Here, don't cry anymore okay?"

 "..."

When Anne made no move to take the tissues or to speak, the boy wordlessly retracted his hand and Anne thought: He’s probably going to leave now.

But instead, the boy opened the pack of tissue, took a piece out, spread it open, neatly folded it in half, then proceeded to wipe away the tears on Anne’s face, gently, carefully, as if Anne were a fragile doll that would break with the slightest touch.

Taken aback by the boy’s actions, Anne could only sit there dazedly, obediently letting the other boy dry the wetness on her cheeks.

A grin spread itself across the boy’s face when he realized that the frown on Anne’s face had disappeared, and that she was no longer crying.

Holding the damp tissue in one hand, the boy stretched out his other hand and said,

“I’m Dave.”

Anne stared at the outstretched hand, then said hesitantly,

“Anne.”

And clasped the larger hand with her own chubby ones.

....................................................................

Two feet dangling helplessly over the edge of the wheelchair, Anne stared wistfully at the figures running across the field, soft soles treading lightly on the field of green.

Someone was ruffling her hair.

“Dave.”

Turning around to see the taller boy, Anne immediately put on the brightest smile she could muster. She didn't want to worry Dave anymore than she already did.

“Can’t fool me.” The older boy simply said, gently poking Anne’s forehead.

The girl in the wheelchair slumped in defeat, protruding lips forming a pout.

Dave bit back a smile and knelt in front of the wheelchair, his body facing the field, his back before Anne’s.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

Anne blinked.

“Why?”

“So you can smile again.”

“Huh?”

“Anne.”

Sensing his friend’s tone of finality, Anne wrapped her arms around Dave’s neck and clung onto it tightly as the other boy slowly stood up, lifting Anne with him, supporting the younger girl on his back, holding her in place by the legs.

And then Dave ran, as fast as he could, with Anne on his back, across the green, green grass, the gentle breeze caressing their faces as wisps of hair danced in the wind.

Though her feet never touched the ground, Anne ran, and then she was flying, her bubbly laughter ringing in the air, blending in with the currents, going up, up and above.

She didn’t need wings to fly.

Not when there was Dave.

..........................................................................

Fearful eyes brimming with tears, Anne sat on the pavement, her school bag lay on the ground, its contents strewn across the concrete.

Looming over the school bully, a black-haired boy glared at the cowering figure with such animosity.

“Stay away from her.”

Uncurling the fist that had landed with such force on the bully’s stomach, Dave turned around, wordlessly shoved the scattered items back where they belonged, slung the bag over his shoulder, took Anne by the hand and pulled her away, away from the bully. Away from danger.

Anne let herself be led away, because she knew that wherever she was, as long as Dave was there, she’d be safe.

But Dave hated violence. Gentle Dave who never lost his cool. He would never hurt anyone.

Yet Dave had punched someone, for her.

Touched, Anne felt a little moist around the eyes.

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

Concerned, Dave immediately stopped walking; voicing his worry once he spotted the tears in the other’s eyes.

Anne lightly shook his head as she tightened her grip on Dave’s hand.

So safe and warm.

“Thank you.”

A barely audible whisper, but filled with unspeakable gratitude. (For saving me from the bully. For keeping me away from danger. For always taking care of me.)

But Dave understood, and Dave knew.

Squeezing Anne’s hand, he smiled.

“Anytime.”

 ..........................................................................

“Ilikeyou!”

They were in Dave’s backyard, kicking a worn soccer ball around when Anne suddenly blurted out words that she figured she’d have to say sooner or later.

Dave stopped in the middle of balancing the ball in mid-air with his knees to stare at Anne, and the ball dropped onto the grass with a small thud.

Silence.

Feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the sudden quietness, Anne fidgeted. “Um, is there a chance that, maybe, um, you’d fall for me too?”

The older boy smiled. “No.”

Flushing with embarrassment, Anne looked down and stared fixedly at the ground, feeling the familiar wetness welling up in her eyes. “I-I’m s-sorry, just um, justpretendIneversaidanythingand-“

“No, silly,” Long arms wrapped themselves protectively around the girl’s waist.

Confused, Anne turned her head around to look at Dave, whose head now rested on her shoulder.

“I’m not falling for you.”

“Then what ar-“

“I already fell.”

“Huh?”

“Ten years ago.”

 ................................................................................

Holding a heart-shaped paper in his hand, the six-year old Anne walked over to her crush and smiled shyly, “This is for you.”

The boy looked at her blankly, then wrenched the small paper from his hand, twisted it, threw it on the floor and stomped on it. Without another word, he walked away.

Anne blinked as she stared at the disfigured item on the ground. She started to cry.A boy with tousled black hair walked over, bent down to pick up the distorted paper, meddled with it to form a heart, then stretched out his hand, a small smile on his lips. “Don’t cry. Here, I fixed your heart.” He paused hesitantly as Anne peered up through her tears to look at him, then he whispered, 

“Can I keep it?”

 …………………………………………………………………………………………….

Anne thinks it’s really ironic how she met the love of her life the day she got her heart broken. 

But she wouldn't have had it any other way.

PS: Ini short story udah lama banget bikinnya dan baru berani ngepost sekarang. Semoga yang baca suka :)

How love is spelt

When they were both kids…

Sally asked, “Jack, how do you spell ‘love’?”

Jack grinned toothily and said, “S-A-L-L-Y.”

 Sally was left struggling with the 5 letters and wondering why they spelt out her name.

When they were both teenagers…

Sally asked, “Jack, how do you spell ‘love’?”

“Y-O-U.” and with that, Jack leaned forward and covered Sally’s lips with his.

And Sally forgot all about the spelling of the word ‘love’.

When they were both university graduates…

Sally asked, “Jack, how do you spell ‘love’?”

Jack stared at her blankly, and said, “L-O-V-E”, before leaving Sally behind and wrapping his arms, the same arms that had held Sally for so many years, around the delicate shoulders of another girl.

It broke Sally’s heart into two.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"People don't change, but the feeling does" - Gregory House

There are different kinds of angels; the ones who belong to heaven, the ones who belong to hell, and the ones who give up their wings to fall in love.

I think it’s hard being in love with you. However, it’s not hard falling in love with you. One quirk of the eyebrow made me stumble, one lift of the mouth made me fall, and one sparkle in the eye found me in love.

These seconds and counting

...breathe in

This is how people fall in love with you. 

It goes something like one, two, three and you’re in love with him before you can even think of what happens after. The lucky ones make it to ten, the unfortunate fall in love before they can even get the first number off their tongues.

He’s a tumbling mass of sharp bones, broken smiles stretched over red lips, and eyes as wide as the world. I'm one of the unfortunate, not even remembering what life was like before you came, and I got my heart tied together by your name alone. They think I might be pathetic, I think it might be love.