Leon | A-Z

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last edited on ZLT: 29.02.20




He wilted on the sidewalk, gnawing his knuckles in frustration.

She was nowhere to be found.


His hand ran through the mess of bedridden hair atop his head; what was he supposed to do now?

She’s definitely gone. Kit’s the impatient type; she won’t wait even without a flight to catch.

That girl, she’d just sprouted this on him this morning (with a text), and proceeded to break up with him (with a text). She told him she’s going to the big apple. He knew well how random she can be, but not to an extent of suddenly flying off to New York, without even a word to him.

What the heck?

He couldn’t reach her number; the apartment she rented was vacated. It was like she disappeared off the face of earth. He didn’t even get a chance to ask for her boarding time. He tried all her friends; they were useless.

Gabe had shot him a text earlier, saying he saw Kit around here, and it didn’t look like she was leaving anytime soon. Of course, being the idiot he was, he jumped off the bus to the airport and sprinted like mad here. And ended up, unfortunately, Kit-less.

Hitching his guitar bag up, he inserted a hand into his pocket and slumped his way through the crowd. At this time, the square was packed with people—so much he was displaced from the sidewalk to the opposite pavement without walking.

He meandered aimlessly around with unfocused eyes; the fact that his girlfriend had just broken up with him still hasn’t properly registered.

For some reason or another, he caught his gaze wandering the crowd, searching for a tiny frame with a mob of purple streaked hair. Her familiar petite silhouette was the one thing his eyes won’t not recognize.

The familiar scene of the square blurred before his eyes. The glint of the afternoon sun reflected back on the window displays blinked like a kaleidoscope of colour back at him.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a flash of purple winking at him.

He paused.


His eyes closed.


Pulse raced.

Purple hair.

Hands fisted.

He bit his lips hard enough to taste blood. “Fvck.”

He didn’t even feel the chafing friction of his sneakers against the rough pavement as he swerved a hundred-eighty turn back.

He ran.

Her hair.

His guitar thumped against his back.

It was purple.

He definitely saw purple hair reflected on the display window.

He elbowed his way across the gushing river of people.

Where was she?

He faced the huge monument scraping the clouds. He turned towards the dainty shops sitting along the alley. He tore towards the sidewalk. The café? The mall? The square? Alcove Street? Where?

“Damnit.” He bit out, scrubbing his hair roughly. “I saw her. I definitely saw. Kit. Where are you?” He clenched his teeth.

Desperation clawed at him.

He rolled his gaze skyward.

A ribbon of purple flashed at the edge of his sight. Purple.


He saw her.

That familiar purple streaks fading into pale lavender.

He ran.

Her tiny shoulders brushed past the crowd.

He ran.

Don’t go. Kit.

He reached out for her hands, his fingers desperately seeking her warmth, to trace the familiar curve of her pink nails.

An unfamiliar brand of giddiness enveloped him, it felt like the time he downed a glass of brandy behind his parent’s back; it had a drunkenness feeling to it.

He reached for her hand dangling invitingly at her side.

A step forward, and his hands clasped hers.

Warmth invaded him. Adrenaline rushed in.

He gripped her fingers and drew it towards him, spinning the girl sideways, and into him.

Her streaks flew, staining his vision a screen of purple.

His hand cupped her chin, tilting her chin up. Before she can vocalize her surprise, his lips closed over hers.

A shiver of delight rippled through his skin.

“Don’t go.” He whispered against her lips, lightheadedly.

She didn’t move as the pair of lips descended against hers. Still frozen, her mind whirled, not quite processing what was happening.

Her heat skittered in her chest wildly, tingles shooting up her spine.

There’s a boy, and he’s got his lips against her in the middle of the street.

Her eyes widened at the dawn of realization, yet she couldn’t find it in her to push him away and slap the crap out of him.

She stared at the face so close to hers. Dark bangs shielded his face; she couldn’t see much of him save for his thick eyelashes glistening like stardust. His pale porcelain skin brushed against her face as he leaned into her.

Warm, his lips were warm. Hot, scorching.

And it tasted of strawberry.

His hand slid across her neck along her jawline.

Oh god. She shivered at his touch. What’s with this physical chemistry?

She leaned into the hand cradling her neck. She was kissing a stranger, which was wrong on so many levels.

But somehow, she’s not getting chills of disgust. She’s not edging away from his touch.

His hand wounded around her waist, pulling her against him. She gasped against his mouth at the sudden lack of distance between them.

No no. Where did her unceasing wariness disappear to?

As if on instinct, her hands gripped his hoodie, tugging him closer.

The alarm bells in her head were going berserk. What the hell was she doing?

Her pulse raced, so loudly she could hear it roaring in her ears.

Who was he? Why was he… Ah. Her mind quivered. His scorching lips against hers crippled her ability to think straight.


She leaned into his warmth.

He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers gently, staring down at his shoes.

She caught a glimpse of his pale eyes peering out from underneath his coffee-brown hair; he’d had her hands clasped tightly in his, his fingers brushing hers.

“Don’t go. Please don’t go, Kit.” He whispered, his husky voice tingling her skin.

Something in her snapped at the unfamiliar name that’d spilled out of the lips she’d just kissed.

Her eyes narrowed. Her hands slipped out of his, and backed away from their close proximity.

He matched her steps. “Wait, Ki—”

“Who are you?”

He froze. And then it shattered, the bubble.

The cacophony of noise in the background surged back up, crashing into him in a tsunami. A sense of dread coiled in his guts.

He raised his gaze, trailing it slowly up the ripped shorts and oversized sweatshirt, and to the pair of large owlish eyes glowering back at him.

The unfamiliar face of the girl he’d just kissed stared back at him

“Fvck me.”





A/N: lol

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