fierce

023
  • by
  • Rating:
  • Published: 22 Feb 2020
  • Updated: 8 Jan 2020
  • Status: Complete
she looks fierce and that's that

1. +

There’s a girl in front of you.

The bus is late, yet again, and despite the 5 layers of clothing you have on the cold still seeps right ind under it and molds itself to your skin.

You wish to speak to her, but the weather is making your lips tremble and you’re unsure whether or not you could make any sound come out of them right now.

She has a blue beanie on, but her long, black locks still flow down the back of her jacket, where they billow slowly in the wind.

You must look like a mess right now, is all you can think about. Your face is red and hair windswept from running to catch the bus, not knowing that it was running late. You’re out of breath and know you would’ve looked better had she met you tomorrow.

She hasn’t even looked at you yet, her gaze too focused on something across the street, her mind closed off to the outside world by a pair of headphones that tuck into her pocket, undoubtedly masking a cellphone.

Her skin glows, but whether it’s from the fact that it was drizzling a little bit earlier or that she just naturally looks like that, you can’t tell.

The bus pulls up right in front of her, nearly eight minutes late, and she puts her hand into her pocket, but when she pulls it out, phone in hand, a piece of paper falls out too. You, already having gone out from under the sheltered bus stop to step towards the bus, stop to pick up the paper, just as she leans down too, and you come eye to eye for the first time in the ten minutes you’ve both been standing here.

The intensity of her glare, coupled with her lush brows nearly hidden beneath the beanie, almost give you such a fright that you nearly freeze in your motion. When she blinks, you can see something vulnerable beneath that sullen look, and you pick up the paper and hand it over to her, despite her being closer to it than you were. She probably let you do it out of politeness, or maybe she wanted to feel your hand brush against hers just as much as you did.

You step onto the bus together. It’s filled to the brim, meaning there’s nowhere to sit, and so you stand in the aisle next to her, clutching the same yellow railing.

She takes off her beanie, shaking her hair out, and you can feel drops of rainwater hit you, but you don’t mind.

The bus shakes, people are talking loudly, and she’s pointedly ignoring looking at you. As much as you try not to make it obvious that you’re looking at her, you can’t help but turn your head in her direction, your eyes settling on her sharp features. You can tell she’s trying not to catch your eyes by the way her own seems to glide from between looking out of the window, almost blocked by the throng of people, to glanzing around at everyone else currently in the bus. You don’t mind this. It gives you more opportunity to catalog her face in your mind.

You don’t know what to say. Every time the bus stops you’re afraid that it’s time for you to say goodbye to her, to lose her before you even have the chance to have her. There are words fluttering around in your mind, but none of them seems to be available to your mouth. They catch in your throat before they even get a chance to live.

She looks like she could be a Charlie’s Angel with her fierce expression and you want her to be yours. You long to see her eyes soften and you want the sort of intimacy that comes from knowing each other for a while.

The bus keeps on rattling. You’ve passed ten stops already. More people have got on than off. You’re standing way closer now, being mushed together by the warm bodies surrounding you. She meets your eyes halfway between the railway station and the endstop. Her gaze doesn’t waver and she moves her hand slowly down on the railing, letting it linger a tiny bit above yours, just out of reach but close enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of it.

She smiles in a gentle manner, but her eyes shine in a way that reminds you of how a predator would smile at its prey before pouncing on it. You feel as if your breath has been knocked out of you.

The bus comes to a screeching halt and she tumbles forward, straight into you. You braze yourself for the fall that’s about to come, but there’s too many people, and despite the clamoring, nobody seems to get hurt.

Turns out the bus almost hit a pedestrian who had crossed the road too quickly for the busdriver to notice before it was almost too late. You’re almost at the last stop and it takes less than ten minutes for the bus to arrive, everyone scrambling to get out of the big vehicle in a flurry.

Despite nearly hugging her a few minutes ago she seems no less thawed than when you two first stepped onto the bus together. She does seem reluctant to leave your side though, as you’re still standing there beside each other, while the flock of people thins out in each direction.

“Can I get your number?” is the first words that come out of your mouth, nowhere near anything that has been running around in your brain for the last half an hour. She resembles a deer caught in headlights when you ask her so blatantly, and you almost wants to laugh at how the tables have turned from her being the predator to now being the prey.

“Of course,” she says and her voice sounds so sweet, nothing like how you would’ve imagined it to sound like. She steps closer to you and you unlock your phone for her benefit, letting her put her number in before she’ll regret it.

“Let me take your picture,” you say, swiftly taking the phone from her when she’s done typing. She doesn’t mind, or at least she doesn’t say anything, and so you snap a quick picture of her, cataloging it together with the number that says “Rebekah”. It fits her, you think.

Nothing much happens after that, but you find out that you’re heading in the same direction, and conversation seems to fall easily between you two when you start walking. Before turning down another street she turns to you to remind you that she expects you to use her number, and despite stumbling a little over your words at first, you grasp the best ones you can and let her know you’ll be doing just that. You definitely want this fierce girl in your life, for better or for worse. Definitely.

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