A floweret kind of Love–I've fallen for you Angel.

Were you not unknown?

That this world nurtured many beautiful creatures?

Resembling a wisp in the air...

Painting an ethereal frame in the earth.

So pristine, pure and untouched above the reach of the tips of the fingers...

Gentle cocoa orbs, beholding glittering stars, swallowing galaxies and universes. An oval framed youthful face, feathery butterfly lashes on almond eyes—reflecting the serenity of her soul.

Such long wavy and luscious onyx hued hair, cascading down her waist; alike an enchanted waterfall.

She was someone seen; yet to be known.

A shrub of rose with thorns and feathery green leaves. She was a floret of flower, yet to blossom and at the end of this tale will unveil; You and I of a mysterious soul.

⑅ ⑅ ⑅ ⑅

She's on her feet, there, at the restless entrance of the airport Magenta. She has her belongings by her side, travelling light. For all the life she's lived, she's had incomplete—imperfect memories.

We have often wondered over fate. Options a fair amount, the mind narrowed, the heart bemused. We float, we flow, every shake and swing, and all we opt for in the end—defines the fate.

She peers across the scene of Erriador, bewildered.

Her attire: a coquette blush pink, adorned with lace patchwork ruffle trim top, airy along a light blue bootcut jeans enhancing, flattering the natural elegance of her fair appearance. The sweet breeze, softly, faintly flying her hair.

Passerbys although occupied, racing and rushing designing two steps ahead of life, spares some of their engaged seconds, for a glance at the beauty.

A girl nurturing a heavenly appearance. A magnificent presence, leaving them in refusal to surcease their whispering words—wandering stares away from her.

Hustle-bustle of the city, feels unwanted of her. She exhales a deep breath, a little drowsy and exhausted. Painfully unaware of the gazes with differing eyes lingering on her frame.

"It doesn't feel so great to be back." She whispers, gazing down at her feet. She frowns, her shoulders slouching in vehement thoughts.

She scans around for a cab, a little perplexed as soon, numbers of them approaches her, lining up—pulling over.

They appeal to take on their cab, apologetically she smiles, refusing, settling for the one closer to her.

A journey to her new home. She adjusts on her seat—being comfortable, a thought suddenly strikes in. She grabs her phone from out her purse. Swiping for a familiar number, she dials it.

The phone beeps once, then twice, patiently she awaits for the sound to come to an end.

"Hello? Neva, did you land safely?" A sweet voice reverbs out the phone.

She breaths irregularly, as she just after tumbling on her hasty steps, for she had an adventure of a house, reached the ringing device.

She has her beloved Neva smile in imagination of her aunt's, inelegant self at home.

"Yes Aunt, I just got into a cab." Neva secures her promise. A promise that she made with her aunt: to have her known of her landing on the far country of Erriador.

Aunt May has her breathing to be well organized. She seats herself in a couch nearby—resting in her great living room.

"That's good...that's good. My dear niece, please be alert at all times alright? And don't accept anything the unknown gives alright?!" She worriedly guides her.

Neva chuckles, her aunt tender, protective and anxious.

"I know, I'll always be careful. Calm your stormy mind okay? Trust this niece of yours a little." She gently, friskily reassures her motherly aunt, garnering giggles out from her.

"Of course, my Neva is all grown up." She melancholicly declares, smiling faintly.

"But you are just a little girl... My little girl."

Neva mellows her eyes, now she wishes May to be by her side. Her gentle self—warming the heart.

"Please be safe Neva, take care of yourself. Call me or anything, and I'll teleport to you." She firmly declares.

Neva laughs, "Sure, Aunt, say hi to uncle for me. Bye."

"I will, and what do I always say? Never ever say bye, we say: see you later." May reminds her clumsy niece with a clumsy mind. Neva chuckles.

"Call me when you reach home darling."

"I will aunt."

Half an hour after, Neva realizes her newly bought apartment. She peers out the window of the cab, taking in her new surroundings. The cab, brings to a stop. Swiftly, she steps out, the driver assisting her to get the luggage bags out.

Walking ahead, her gaze travels to the cream and coffee coloured apartment—she deliberately chose sailing through the internet. The evening air swaying her hair along the twigs with leaves on the tree branches.

Her apartment emits an aura, that of the beautiful english buildings in countryside, two-floors and ten doors to home for it's inhabitants.

Standing in front of the door, the realization sinks in. This place; it's now her home.

She unlocks the door, swiftly she breezes in.

She stands on the hallway, as the lights automatically switches on. What connects her sight of vision, is a dark living room adjoined with the hallway.

Neva walks ahead, stepping into the living room, having it strip of darkness—illuminating the bare walls.

She rests the luggages on the floor, her eyes assessing her abode.

The interior painted in a tear drop palette, wandering around, echoes of her footsteps resounds in the hushed apartment. Soon she discovers a pretty bedroom and a fresh kitchen.

Sliding the blinds away, out the window on the south of her living room, the transparent barrier blesses her with a cozy balcony.

'It's a comfy space.'

She smiles, satisfied, it's enough to make her stay there satisfying.

⑅ ⑅ ⑅ ⑅

Neva had her time acquiring familiarity with her new environment. It has been five days of her home in Erriador.

A week after, she has to go attend classes at the college she just enrolled. She has been restless, adorning her home and preparing for the new term—refusing to spare her time to explore the new neighbourhood.

Neva buried in her book, finally becomes aware, it's almost the end of the day. Her stomach growls demanding to be fed.

She exhales a loud sigh—closing the nook, feeling slothful; for she has no ingredients to make food.

She gathers the books, being seated on the floor for hours, finally she arises to her sore feet.

♡

Strolling through the street, the cool whispers of autumn breeze makes her skin tingle.

Donned in skinny black jeans, and a black casual hoodie. Her love for flowing her long, wavy hair, didn't need to be studied, for; she lacked the knowledge of designing her pretty hair in any other fashion.

The leaves on the trees at the sides of the pavement, decorates the world in vibrant, enchanting colours.

It's the start of october, the ushering of winter forthcoming.

The fresh fallen leaves blending with dry maple leaves, emerging a crisp crasp sound—following each of her steps.

She smiles; feeling alive.

It's her favourite, the smell in the air of fresh mown hay.

"Hey You!"

A voice, from out of nowhere makes Neva's sense cautious—halting her steps.

She turns around, endeavouring to locate the owner of the voice. And then, a pair of striking dark orbs, concealing an endless abyss meets her own.

A beautiful handsome man.

She just stands there...looking through his eyes. His cold eyes which grows shades warmer, with each steady trudge he takes to get to her. 

And then, he stands there... So Close...

Neva dreams not a thing; yet everything.

Yet, she veils herself with her resting features.

He just stands there, staring at her—abscend of words, as she awaits to what he has to say. She blinks her eyes, having seen herself reflecting in his eyes.

His hair dark and slightly wavy, soft and a little messy, having one's palms itch to caress and ruffle them lightly in adoration.

His skin hued resembling honey, a straight tall nose, sharpened jaw, dark eyebrows, striking almond cocoa orbs.

"It unfastened,"

"Huh!" The girl barely lets out the huh.

The mysterious man tilts his head, maintaining his deep curious gaze secure to her's.

An unexpected shift in the air.

Neva the young maiden feels the breeze grow warmer, as her cheeks hues scarlet.

Just like that~?

Let the blood rush red to the cheeks,

Let the eyes voice the lips fail to word.

Let the awkward fingers rest in calmness,

Let the time stay still and the heart run faster.

Let the roots sprout deep throughout the soul,

Let the floweret kind of love bloom unhurriedly...

"Your shoe laces, it unfastened." He says once more, his voice softened—and ocean deep.

Neva stunned looks down at her shoes.

It had been really, unlaced.

"Uh-uh, thank you. I didn't know." She nervously comes off, tumbling on her words.

He smiles, and she forgets to do what she's supposed to do.

Tie her disheaveled laces!

"You should be careful," He surprisingly, kneels down, weaving the disheaveled laces for her. Neva astonished enlarges her eyes, trailing down the frame on his knees.

"Yo-you don't have to do that," She swallows, she burns up in shyness. Subconsciously, she caresses her warm cheeks. She's aware, Neva did burn scarlet.

He arises on his feet, having put aside a destiny of injury. "Of course, I should."

She in a flinch, tears away her hands from the cheeks, "Why would you?"

Feathering his lips with a faint smile, he says, seven natural words.

"After all, I've fallen for you Angel."