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Treasure Chest

Where you will find the hidden gems along my journey. My feelings. My raw and real emotions. You will get laughter, kink, positivity, with pain and some times heartache all wrapped in silver lining. So if you haven't been here yet, make sure you begin at the beginning.
8 hours ago. Oct 16, 2021, 6:43 AM

Melissa takes a deep breath before opening the door. Trying her best to steady her erratic heartbeat and get herself to a place of calm, she knows most likely won't come. She opens it timidly, a fraction at a time, in such contrast to her desire for just getting it over and done with. Once it's fully ajar, seeing her sister's beautiful face after so long, is bittersweet for her.


Its like looking at herself in a mirror, yet not. While Melissa has uniquely rustic eyes, like a burnt orange with a hint of red. They're the color of a bonfire and the feeling of warmth you wish to hold you forever, but know it's fleeting. Then you have Johanna's deep blue eyes and its like fire and ice are staring at each other. Although this once, the cold they normally exude, is shrouded by a foreign expression that Melissa isn't at all familiar with seeing from her sister. Is it shame? Regret? 


"Can I come in?" Johanna asks softly. 


Melissa says nothing, just steps back, bringing the door with her to allow enough space for her sister's entry. The politeness in Johanna's voice and body language sets Melissa more at ease, yet her guard is up. Small talk ensues, but before the niceties take over, she asks Johanna why. 


"... what?" Johanna asks.


Melissa did interrupt her when she asked the dreaded why, but there's no fucks to give. Her sister fucked the man she knows she loves. The last thing she wants to do is talk about the weather. 


"I asked you why. Why why why?? Why the fuck would you sleep with Patrick of all people when you know how I feel for him?!" Melissa's voice getting more hysterical with each word. 


"I don't know." Johanna tells her calmly.


She doesn't even look at Melissa when she says this, pissing her off more. With her eyes on the floor, Johanna doesn't see the open and closing that her sister's fists are doing at her sides.


Melissa takes another deep, cleansing breath to avoid simply losing her shit, then says softly "That's bullshit and you know it."


Silence fills the cozy living room and it grates on Melissa's nerves. "Get out." She tells her sister, silent rage dancing behind her eyes. 


Johanna looks up, shocked. "What?" She asks again. 


"What do you mean, what? I said get the fuck out Johnna!"


"I can't believe you're kicking me out. Im your sister!"


"What?!! How fuckin dare you pull the sister card?! You didn't care about that when you were on your back, letting Patrick stick his dick in you!" Melissa shouts, her hands in fists, starting to shake. 


A tear streaks down Johanna's face. "I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. We shouldn't have done it."


"No. You shouldn't have. But you only care about yourself. I never wanted to see it before, but now I have no choice. Leave my house and don't come back. I no longer have a sister." Melissa tells her with more calm than she knew she had. 


Her heart is broken, but this was coming. It was inevitable. 


Johanna's tears fall freely and she hesitates at the door, hoping Melissa will ask her to stay. The seconds stretch on, feeling like hours, before the door finally closes and Johanna's car leaves the driveway. As soon as she feels she could breathe again, Melissa hears her phone ringing in the room. Its Patrick's ringtone. Before she knows it, she finds herself to be a crying heap on the floor, once again.  


To be continued....

3 days ago. Oct 13, 2021, 6:31 AM

I know my audio is a little funky. 

But I couldn't help but put some random thoughts here.

I hope you're all well ❤

3 days ago. Oct 13, 2021, 1:08 AM

Patrick gets Melissa home in no time but it felt like an eternity to her. The tension was stifling in the truck. She didn't know whether to scream at him or stay quiet, mulling over her next move. Johanna would need to be dealt with at some point, but now she just needs to get rid of Patrick and get on with her day. 


She exited the truck, slams the door harder than necessary, not that she feels bad for it. She sees him wince at the action, but he says nothing. He knows her well enough to know, its better to stay quiet than to try and grovel his way through it. This was the ultimate betrayal in her eyes. How could he have done it?


Entering her cozy home, it feels foreign to her. Not the small quiet sanctuary she loves curling on the couch with a good book anymore. At least not in this moment. It feels like steel. Hard, harsh and unyielding. Melissa feels so unsettled here now. Looking around, all memories of her and Johanna decorating together. Laughing at all the silly things Melissa had purchased before moving in, that somehow found their place in each spot that needed a knick here or a knack there. 


But now, its like she's a stranger in her own home. The memories of the great bond she used to have with Johanna are like parasites taking over all the tranquility that Melissa cherished so much. They're dancing like Ring A Round The Rosie, with sing-song melodies flowing from their little tongues, taunting her and causing an itch she can't scratch.


Before she knows it, she crumples in a heap on the floor and cries until there's no more water left in her system. Making her feel no less hurt, just overwhelmingly dehydrated and aching for some sort of soothing balm to coat what feels like blistered insides that could never heal.


Her falling out with Johanna was already killing her. 6 months of not talking was taking its toll. Patrick knew. He listened while she ranted, raved and even cried on that one weak point of a night. It was her birthday afterall and she was utterly shattered that Johanna wouldn't be there. She's never missed a birthday. Not one. And birthdays was their thing. Born only a year apart, almost to the day, they always celebrated together, but this was different. It was the end of an era. It felt like the beginning of a war. 


But nothing feels more painful than this. Johanna knew her heart for Patrick. She knew! How could she sleep with the one guy that Melissa cared so deeply for? The man she whole heartedly loved? Its girl code number one! Then you add the sister code and its too many codes to crack, to hurt someone you love. At least Melissa thought Johanna loved her, despite their issues. Not anymore. This was the nail in the coffin. She lost the man she loved and her sister all in one swoop. She knew waking up late this morning was the beginning of a shitty day. Well...fuck. This is shittier than she could've ever imagined. 


Hearing her phone chime, she realizes that she never took it with her, due to leaving so hastily. Getting up, wiping her tears and entering the room, an ominous feeling runs through her before checking the messages. She hesitates briefly, but too curious to hold off any longer. There's two texts. One from Patrick and one from Johanna. She doesn't want to hear from that douche bag so the one from Patrick is ignored.


Her thumb hovers over the other, taking a deep breath before pandora's box is opened. There's two in the thread. The first message from before she'd left for the hike saying WE HAVE TO TALK. Damn. She thought it was Patrick rushing her. Who knows how things would've gone if Johanna got to her first. 


And the other was just a few minutes prior, saying PATRICK TOLD ME HE TOLD YOU. IM ON MY WAY TO YOUR PLACE


Melissa's heartrate immediately spikes, ill-prepared to have this face off now after weeping from her depths. Still feeling her nerve endings prickling from her lingering vulnerability. Then her doorbell rings and she knows the day is cackling at her, holding its popcorn, ready for the show.


Its go- time...


To be continued......

3 days ago. Oct 12, 2021, 9:59 PM

She awakens early, rubbing her eyes to clear the fog of sleep. Her dark curls splayed across her pillow, like a fan of beauty meant to enhance the loveliness of her face. Sitting up suddenly, realizing she's running late for her hike with a friend, her heart pounds wildly. 


Frustration runs amok in her system. She could've sworn she'd woken before her alarm, not slept through it. Waking early, turned into waking late, and Melissa never loves being late. Usually meticulously on time, this will derail her whole day.


The soft chime of her cell ringing, alerts her of Patrick's impatience. He's been waiting for only 10 minutes and its too long for him. This heightens her frustration, but she can't blame him. She'd be the same if she were in his shoes right now. 


Luckily for them both, Melissa is a natural beauty and in no need of extras to get ready. Its just a hike anyway, but she needed to pee and at least rinse her face, clearing the sleep from her still tired eyes. 


Grabbing a protein bar and a bottled water, she races out the door. Her curvy figure, accentuated by her form fitting sweat suit. She had tied up her hair quickly, a high sitting messy bun, keeping her dark curls tucked in and off her neck. Melissa's heart pumps upon seeing Patrick waiting for her. His chiseled face with a sour frown on it, his irritation with her on full display. He normally looks so sweet with his black framed glasses low on his nose and his shiny, brown hair floppy over his forehead. Eyes the lightest blue and so kind. He's extremely attractive, yet in a subtle way. Such a dichotomy in each expression he makes. 


She dislikes upsetting him. With very few friends to speak of, the last thing she wants is to lose any of them over something so minor. Entering the cab of his pick up, Melissa rushes to explain why she's late, but he silences her with a hug. Totally caught off guard by his unexpected show of affection, she's left speechless, wondering what's gotten into him. Patrick is the silent, broody type. Not nearly the affectionate one of the two and his expressions of care for her have been grunts and a smile. 


Its what's worked for them for years. Melissa enjoys the silence and he enjoys the comfort of not needing to fill in the awkward silences that never seem to come between them. But holy shit, this is new. Something must've happened. 


"Patrick. Um. Are you okay?" She asks him gently, wanting desperately to look into his eyes, but giving him time to hold and release her at his comfort level. 


He pulls back and his face his red with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Let's get outta here. The roads await our steps." 


She sits back in her seat with an exasperated sigh. "Oh no you don't. I deserve to know what the hell is going on with you after... whatever that was. And don't start with the poetic bullshit today. We're running late because of me and you know I hate being late."


He says no words. The silence stretches on during the scenic route of the drive to their favorite hiking spot. Melissa lets him brood with a scowl on his face. He knows damn well she won't be letting him off the hook, so they sit in the quiet of each other's frustrated breathing.


"I slept with Johanna" Patrick tells her with a meek voice. 


She's looking straight ahead when he says this and his his nervousness hits her left side like a physical force. Melissa's body goes rigid in the next moment and she turns toward him with a fury she almost can't contain. 


"You did what?!" 


"I'm so sorry Melissa! I know I said I wouldn't but..."


She waits quietly again for him to finish that sentence but it never comes. 


"Take me home" she says with a eery sense of calm that's even surprising to her own ears. 


"No! Melissa, please stay. Let's hike and talk about this!"


Her eyes cut to his like they're knives and he looks down quickly as if he can't handle the sharpness of her stare. 


"Take me the fuck home! Now Patrick! When you fucked my sister, you made a choice. We are no longer friends." Melissa crosses her arms as he drives me home, the silence suffocating. 


To be continued....

6 days ago. Oct 9, 2021, 8:18 PM

You know those moments between sleeping and waking, where the dream still feels real? Where the edges of your conciousness still linger in that place of your mind that conjures up the sweetest rain and the most dangerous sunrise? 


It leaves your heart pounding in your chest at the slightest move or creak in your house. Your fight or flight kicks in and adrenaline pumps heavily in your veins like the hit of a death causing drug. Mine is chocolate of course. Getting too much of it into my blood stream can cause me to die the happiest death ever. Death by chocolate should be on my gravestone. 


Although its a flavor of ice cream I adore, the title is accurate enough to make me think of you as I touch myself to the memory of how you fucked me last night. You were in me, over me, behind me, under me, all around me in every place that could be reached and touched. It was exactly where I wanted you. Where I needed you, because you were in my head. 


You entered that minefield long ago, but its now that im really letting you in. Allowing you to enter my level of acceptance, that I can't breathe without you. That I live to please you in your need for and desire for me. It makes no sense and I don't want it to. Because most would say that I don't need you. Most could come up with rationalities of merely needing food, water and air to survive.


But no, I need the irrationality that comes with you owning every part of me. Penetrating the very depths of my soul along with every soaking crevice that aches to be filled with your fingers, your tongue, your cock, your sweet words in that deep, raspy voice that makes me quiver. My heart pumps more sweet, rich chocolate throughout my body as I come undone in your arms. Your embrace holding me against you. Attempting to meld us together. Our skin unable to separate any longer, because its irrational to want to be siamese twins with your partner, but here I am. Here we are, right? 


Wrapped in the sheets, our legs tangled together, with your fingers in my curls and our breaths mingled. Our air exchanging hellos as we breathe the life force that keeps us yearning, even in our most relaxed state. When we drift off to the dreams that feel like luscious clouds and broken music boxes. The music ending. Devastating the very dancer in our chests because they must move off beat. It feels like our heart has stopped all together at the realization of loss, then we wake. 


Awakening in your arms, with the light streaming through the window. It shines on your handsome face, while I long to place my finger tips along every line and curve again so I do. Then your eyes open. You find me after racing through a maze for hours since we drifted to that place of irrationality. And while our hearts still feel fear, you enter me. You sheathe yourself inside me, knowing I can't keep you safe, but wanting me to all the more. 


My body takes you easily, yet I don't want it to. I want it to be rough, pounding. I want it to hurt, so you make it painful. You grab, yank, thrust, spank. You make me break while piecing me together again, while you fuck me like a machine. Making me feel split in two and its not enough. I tell you more. I beg you. Flesh against flesh. Sweat and kisses. You fuck me hard. You fuck me sweet. You fuck me tender. You fuck me deep. You fuck me irrationally. 

1 week ago. Oct 5, 2021, 11:20 AM

She relishes in the use and abuse of her body.


The one he possesses.


The one he simultaneously cares for.


It's in the way he pushes her in ways only he knows she needs, yet she gives in and submits to his desires for her.


All the while, although she's surprised, afraid even, she's thankful to him for the moments he's studied her.


For all the times he'd listened to her cravings and yearnings.


It wasn't the things she'd said, but words unspoken, in between the lines of her sighs or the moan of her orgasm.


It was how she'd kneel before and for him, before he could make the request, despite the soreness of her limbs.


What was to come was everything he knew she needed and everything she relished because he was the one who gave it to her.

1 month ago. Sep 14, 2021, 7:07 AM

He grabs her roughly by the arms, turning her to face him again. She tried her best to separate herself from him, but to no avail. He wouldn't let her go, despite what she says now, or even what she does. This is what they do. Fight, hate fuck, fight some more, loving each other through the mind fuckery without saying a word. 


They know each other all too well now. Like a well oiled machine, it only takes a lingering glance or a shuddering breath to set the wheels in motion. Although this time, he told her she couldn't go out in that dress. Not too abnormal for him, as he's possessive of her and to his credit, the little black scraps of material don't cover enough of what's his. So it wasn't surprising when she shoved past him, moving that ass with a sway that could make grown men cry. It only did what she wanted, to make the primal in him burst forth with a growl, which surged him forward, cutting off her path to the door.


Her right hand came up and left a stinging slap on his left cheek before he saw it coming. She'd never done that before, so he had no prior expectation, but he won't make that same mistake twice. She got around him with ease, smirking sexily at his stunned expression, opening the door and attempting to leave again. The frigid night air hit him with force then, increasing his need to keep her home. Keep her warm. 


So by the arms he grabs her, slamming the door closed behind them. They stare at each other, both at an impasse. Both with fire in their eyes. Who will break first? Who will give in? Cheeks flushed. Hearts pounding. They long for a kiss to consume them with passion, yet neither one moves. She steps back, easily out of his grip while he waits for her to make her move. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she allows her eyes to flutter closed. Only a few seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity to him. She opens her eyes with a piercing look that steals his breath and says in a fiercely gentle voice "Kiss it better..."

1 month ago. Sep 12, 2021, 11:01 PM

She enters the room timidly, unsure of what awaits her in the near future. Her heart races, but she's excited, knowing without doubt that her Sir will make this night memorable for her as he always does.


Goosebumps arise on her skin and she shivers. The dungeon he had built in the bottom level of his home doesn't typically make her tremble. Not for the lower temperatures, but because of the scenes that take place here. Though tonight, it holds a frigidity she can't shake. Almost as if the very walls enslave the coldness, heightening her nervousness.


The lights are dim, scented candles lit around the room, giving the space a warm glow. It looks cozy, in complete contrast to the cold. Very clever of him. The play has already begun and he hasn't even touched her yet.


Before long, she's stripped of all her clothes and he's securing her wrists to the bed posts. Followed by her ankles. She's spread eagle and completely helpless. Completely at his mercy. She feels owned. Possessed by him. Her favorite way to feel. 


He takes a blindfold, tying it behind her head, plunging her into complete darkness. Helplessness overwhelms her. He guides her back to a steady breath. Centering her the way only he knows how. 


Then the real fun begins, complete sensation play. Everything he wants to stimulate her body. To keep her guessing and intrigued. Using vibes, feathers, cold, heat, anything his creative mind desires is what her body experiences. 


He longs for her orgasms. She is made to cum over and over for him until her body is sweaty and dripping. Until she can't cum anymore and she's begging him to stop.


To be the slave of his desire. Pure, raw and primal. He fucks her hard, soft. He edges her to madness. It is a night of pushing boundaries. It is a night of bliss. 

1 month ago. Sep 11, 2021, 12:42 AM

Holding her by the throat firmly, he asks her in a gentle whisper "Who do you belong to?"


She's wet and shivering, so turned on now but she shows him a slight smile, replying "You, Sir". A part of her wants to chuckle at the contrast of his touch and tone, but he's only given her a hair's width of breath to convey her response, due to his vice-like grip. 


Yanking her hair back roughly after releasing her neck, he bites her on the red finger marks he'd left behind. His teeth go deep, aggressively marking her more. She whimpers at the pain, while feeling more moisture gather between her legs. 


There was a time where she would've called her safeword now, just from the duality of her emotions. She used to feel such shame at being aroused during their sessions. It didn't make sense to her why she'd get wet from moments that were so similar to her experiences of past abuse. But just the knowledge that he truly cherished her and that trust had been built over time, made a world of difference. She'd grown to know, he'd always honor her safeword. He'd keep her safe not only during, but after play. 


Feeling secure in the fact that he holds her to a high esteem, instead of as a worthless nothing, she's pushed closer to the release she craves. Instead of fighting him, she leans further into his touch. Her body aches for everything he longs to give her and it makes her tremble. Goosebumps have arisen on her skin and a blush covers her face, neck and supple breasts. 


Wearing only a black, lace corset, her cleavage is center stage. Pulling the top of her garment down, her ample bust spills out and before she realizes his intention for her, each one is slapped hard and a harsh sting is left in the wake of the sound. She gasps loudly and he swallows her surprise with a kiss that makes her toes curl.  


They're both panting when he releases her. Then he stands back to watch, after ordering his darling submissive to remove her clothing and lay down on the bed. Surprisingly not on her back, but on her stomach instead, she's left wondering what he has in store for her.


A spreader bar is placed between her ankles, after her wrists have been tied to the bed posts. Soaking wet and feeling helpless, he places a magic wand against her clit, turning it up to a mid- setting. Her body shakes uncontrollably from the sensation, as she's already so swollen and sensitive. 


"No cumming babygirl" He tells her commandingly.


She doesn't speak, just bites her lip to stave off the impending orgasm. 




She cries out at the unexpected spanking she's now getting. There's something so erotic about the impact of each strike, heating the skin, while feeling her cheeks jiggle simultaneously. She hears his grunt of approval, as she takes the onslaught with little noise or protest. Her boundaries are being pushed but she's patient, allowing him to use her body for his pleasure. 


Before long, she tastes blood on her tongue from biting her lip so hard, attempting to not fall over the edge of bliss she knows awaits her. She only needs him to give permission, but it has not yet come. Her Sir removes the toy from her soaking wet clit, entering her cunt swiftly from behind.


He places a blindfold over her eyes, as he thrusts slowly but deeply into her. With her hair now wrapped in his fist, he rides her in a rhythm that makes butterflies swarm her belly and her wetness coat the hard cock buried in her sweet pussy. She feels his body weight heavier upon her, when he turns her head roughly to the side, passionately kissing her full lips. 


She imagines his mouth looking wet, with a tinge of red from her busted lip. He says nothing about it, but the moan she hears when he releases her, makes her smile in satisfaction at his pleasure. Feeling his hard member grow more erect inside her, he pounds her harder, hitting her g-spot at the perfect angle to make her become ravenous with need. 


Sounds are escaping her that are more animalistic than human, driving him to lose control and ride her like a wild bull. Unexpectedly he rips the blindfold from her eyes, turning her head almost painfully towards him so he could look in her eyes. 


"Don't cum baby" He says in a strained voice while not breaking eye contact. 


"Oh Sir, please!!" She begs him desperately. 


"No! Your cum is mine. When I say."


"Oh fuck" Panting loudly, her heart pounds erratically in her chest and tears begin pouring from her eyes. 


He cums deep inside her then, a mighty roar filling the room, while he coats her insides with his precious seed. She's full on bawling now, desperate need driving her emotions. 


Removing the spreader bar from her ankles, then unwinding her wrists, he rubs the soreness from her body as she cries, laying her on her back now. He kisses her tenderly on the lips as he leaves fiery licks and bites down her neck and breasts while reaching between her legs and fingering her deeply with his middle and ring fingers.


Her tears have slowed and she's moaning again, a beautiful blush covering her whole body and her limbs taut like guitar strings. Before long, his head is between her thicc thighs, shaking madly as he laps up her juices from her asshole to her sopping wet clit. She begins begging again and he raises his head to answer her. Their eyes meet piercingly, his cobalt blue to her chocolate brown. The left side of his mouth rises, showing her a sexy, devilish grin. 




Whoa, what? 


"I'm sorry everyone." Miranda clears her throat, trying to get her mind back on the meeting she's in. "Where were we?"


"We were discussing strategy to increase our profit margins against our closest competitors." Miranda's executive partner says with irritation. 


She mumbles her apology, nodding an affirmative to the question her partner needed to ask twice, then continued running the meeting as if there'd been no interruption. Lowering her gaze to take a deep breath and try to gain her composure again, she crosses her legs under the conference room table. Feeling the wetness at the center of her thighs from the daydream of last night's session, she curses the time, frustrated that she can't touch until this meeting ends.


Once she has herself under control, Miranda raises her eyes, seeing his blue eyed stare from the other end of the table, the chatter in the background drowned out by her erratic heartbeat. He smirks at her, knowing full well what she was thinking just before. Then to her shock, he raises his hand to his nose, sniffing the digits that were inside her 30 minutes ago. Soon after, he licks them subtly, all the while not taking his eyes off her. He hadn't washed them before leaving her office and the mere knowledge of it makes her blush. 


Thankfully, the meeting is brought to a close, but to her mortification, he removes his fingers from his mouth and speaking loudly to the room, he says with mirth "I taste sweet victory after that riveting meeting, don't you?"


Everyone laughs in agreement as he winks at her. Then Miranda stands, heading toward the exit with red tinged cheeks and without looking back. 

1 month ago. Sep 9, 2021, 8:50 AM

                           Jax (1st person pov)


Sitting in the quaint little coffee shop, waiting for Sophie, I'm anxious. I have no idea why, honestly. Im used to running a company, not shaking nervously in my boots over a woman. I mean, I'm not wearing boots to shake in them, but I raise my hand and notice a slight tremor there. Ive been confident this whole time, until now. But I guess its because this moment will define us. This meeting will determine her willingness to really try something more with me.


The smell of coffee is thick in the air. Strong and such a fresh delicious scent, mixed with the sweetness of the pastries they also sell here. I arrived early to try and settle my nerves. Better that, than being late. I doubt Sophie'd be impressed if I didn't at least arrive on time.  So I sit back in my seat, enjoying the bitter flavor of the black coffee I ordered, while letting the comforting aromas wash over me. 


My hands have stopped shaking and according to my watch, I've been here for the past hour with no sign of Sophie. She's fifteen minutes late. How ironic. Picking up my phone to call her, just in case something's happened, concern bombards my thoughts and my foot bounces rapidly on the hardwood beneath me. Where could she be? This was her idea. The time, even the location. No way she forgot where to meet me. So I settle on either she's standing me up, or something bad has happened. Dear God let her be safe. 


I don't even believe in some being in the sky, but she's the type of woman to make me pray. My brain is going a mile a minute, knowing I'll feel ridiculous for freaking out if I end up being wrong. I'd just prefer the rejection over her health being compromised. And I know fifteen minutes late isn't even that bad, but I feel like ive been waiting for her since before I met her at the lounge.


She's the type of woman you wait for and worry over. Not just for a minute, an hour, a day, but a lifetime. 


It wasn't her beautiful hazel eyes or even the shine in her hair. I'd love to say it was her sultry voice, her sexy curves or even the lips I tasted much too briefly. But it was everything about her between the lines. The look in her eyes that have fire in them because she's fought through her pain. It's her lovely hair and the way I'd always love it, even messy in the morning, or dripping water onto the floor, fresh out of the shower. Her voice will keep me on my toes, while also saying the words our kids will need to hear when they get hurt or feel afraid. Her curves will ache for my hands, to fulfill her desires and be the places I'd hold her on the nights she needs comforting. And her lips will kiss me farewell before work, and welcome me home at night. 


Im sitting here seeing my whole future with her play in my mind, while hoping any second she'll walk through that door. And she does. Her eyes alight with curiosity, searching for me and landing on my face from across the room. It almost feels like deja vu, with how we keep making eye contact across rooms, but im okay with it. She's absolutely stunning, with the morning sun shining through the uniquely painted glass in random parts of the coffee shop walls. I didn't think such a cozy, funky type place would be a good place to talk. It seemed almost too small when I first walked in. Too crowded and noisy. But this was definitely the right call. If I could capture the way she looks right now in a photo, to last me for years, I would. Of course I have my phone, but that would be creepy and awkward so my memory will have to do.


Her hair is shining as it falls around her shoulders with a flower pinning her hair on one side. She's smiling, looking so sweet and beautiful in comparison to the night we met, now that she's in a white sundress and yellow sandals. Although the black, "fuck me" dress was sexy as all hell, this seems more natural. No less Sophie, but just another part of her im aching to learn about. I want to simply hold her hand and see her smile. I want to get to know this woman. I want to know her heart. 


I go to stand as she walks towards me, and before I know it, she's soaking wet. The bottoms of her hair is tinged brown and dripping coffee down the front of her now, stained dress. The waitress must've not been paying attention as Sophie was headed my way, because they collided just right, for all of the left-over coffee orders to spill all over my girl. The poor waitress is wet too, but picking up the fallen drink cups while apologizing profusely. Sophie doesn't seem to hear her though. She's simply staring right at me, in complete shock, looking too mortified to speak. 


She recovers quickly though. Much faster than I, because before I could take a step in her direction to help, she's exited the shop. Then I do the only thing I could do in this situation. I grab my things and chase after her.