My Inspiration
My grateful hand shoots out to stop the alarm. I grab my journal from my bedside table and scribble down my dream, goosebumps rising on my arms just from remembering it. Why was I dreaming about Damon? I only spent twenty minutes with him. I recall the second half of my dream and realize that he's the "hit and run jerk." That's why his name sounded familiar. "Brand" called his name after rushing out of the door after him! With one mystery solved, I focus back on the meaning behind my dream. It doesn't make sense that I was dreaming of Damon, and why would Brand tell me to "say no"? Who or what was I saying no to? None of this makes any sense.
I look at my alarm clock again, fifteen minutes passed. Getting out of bed, my body relaxes when I can swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk to the bathroom for a hot shower. Turning the nozzle, hot water shoots out, soaking my arm in the process. Steam quickly fills the room and I leave the door open a crack to let some of the suffocating heat out. Grabbing my toothbrush, I quickly spread on some of my toothpaste and brush my teeth, foam coating my rosy lips white. Two minutes later, I spit and watch as it all goes down the drain with the rushing water from the faucet.
Stripping down, I set my foot under the stream to check the temperature. Feeling satisfied and ready to rid the sweat from last night's nightmare, I step fully under the spray and let the warm water rush down my body, soothing my tense muscles in the process.
Opening my shampoo, the scent of coconut swirls around the shower as I scrub it into my hair making sure to scratch my scalp. Eyes closed, I rinse the shampoo out of my hair. Re-opening my eyes, I open the coconut-scented conditioner and intertwine the white liquid with my caramel hair. Pouring body wash onto my lavender-colored sponge, I rinse it with water and clean my body all while wondering what that dream could have meant. It's obvious that Damon hit me with the door, but why couldn't I get out of bed? Who was staring at me? Why did I feel so safe when I was looking into the shadow's blue eyes? Whose eyes are they? Why did they seem to recognize me?
Rinsing off, I step out of the shower and dry off having more questions than answers. With the towel, I wipe off the mirror and look at the girl staring back at me. On the outside, she has caramel-colored hair, dark blue eyes, freckles, high cheekbones, and a button nose that leads to straight, white teeth. On the inside, she is an insecure girl without friends to accompany her in her daily life. She wants to go on adventures and be a successful writer that goes to a cabin in the winter to get inspiration from the wilderness.
Stepping back, I dry off and walk to my bedroom to get dressed for the day. I open my closet and almost immediately, a pale pink sweater stands out from the rest of my darker colored clothes. Pulling it off its hanger, I walk over to my dresser to the left and pull out a pair of dark blue, high-waisted, skinny jeans. The only type of jeans I will wear. I walk next to my bed and grab out a light pink bra and underwear set, and slip everything on. Feeling satisfied with my outfit, I grab cute knee-high socks and black boots. Walking into my kitchen I quickly devour a light breakfast consisting of a granola bar and a glass of apple juice before I leave.
On my way out, I grab my small purse that has my credit and debit cards, some cash, chapstick, gum, headphones, and pepper spray. Taking my phone off its charger, I grab my keys next to it and walk out the door, making sure to lock it behind me.
After walking down the short hallway, I pass the elevator and open the door to the stairwell. One flight down, I stop. A man, around 24, maybe 25, lays on the stairs completely passed out. His face is hidden by the hoodie around his head, but his body structure seems mature. It is clear that he is a frequent visitor to the gym.
Quickly, I look around the stairwell to see if any of his friends are here with him. When I see no one, I approach the stranger and kneel down to shake his shoulder to wake him up. I don't know how long he's been here, but no matter, either way, he's going to be hurting. When he doesn't respond, I try again, shaking his arm a little harder and calling out for him to wake up.
I still get no response.
In a last attempt, I gently nudge- well kick- his leg to break him from his slumber. Which proves to be a bad idea as his body slowly starts to move off of the stair he is sleeping on. Without hesitating, I go back into my crouching position, and catch the man before he falls down the rest of the flight. Another bad idea considering he's much bigger than me and he takes us both down the stairs. My purse falls from its position around my arm, all of its contents spewing on the floor in the midst of our tumble. Finally landing, I fall on top of him, the air still being knocked out of me from the hardness of his chest.
"Oomph," the body underneath me sounds out.
I quickly scramble off of his body and dust myself off. A pretty pointless act considering my bag and everything that is supposed to be in it is still on the floor.
Gathering everything, I look to my side and see the stranger still laying down.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Could be better. What were you doing?" he asks as if I purposely pushed us down the stairs.
"I- I'm sorry. I was walking down the stairs and saw you. I wanted to make sure you were okay and I know the stairs aren't very comfortable so I was trying to wake you up. I swear, I didn't mean for either of us to roll down the stairs."
"You should've left me sleeping."
Turning his head towards me, I see the crystal blue eyes from my dream. I gasp, surprised that I found them. I didn't believe that they existed. I only thought they were a figment of my imagination or belonged to a person I was never going to meet.
Looking away from his eyes, I focus on the face and the wind is knocked out of me for the second time this morning.
"Damon?" I ask unbelievingly.
Him? He's the guy with the eyes from my dream. How could I ever find comfort in him? He has been nothing but rude and careless since I met him, which if I remember correctly was only for twenty minutes, after he not only hit me with a door and neglected to apologize, but when he barged into my house and refused to leave.
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
My mind blanks, caught off guard that I was so easily forgotten by the same man I dreamt of after only seeing him for such a short amount of time. Am I really that forgettable?
Scrambling to reply, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, "I'm the girl whose apartment you barged into last night. I tried to kick you out, but you wouldn't leave."
He looks at me, blankly. His eyebrows furrow and his eyes crinkle for only a moment before his face turns into a blank sheet of paper, unreadable.
"Oh. I remember you. You were so rude!" He exclaims as if I'm the one who was wrong in that situation.
"Excuse me? I was in my own house and you tried to kick me out. Twice!"
Ignoring my comment, he gets up and walks down the rest of the flight. Breaking out of my trance, I rush down and follow right on his heels.
After everything this guy has done to me in the last 24 hours the least I deserve is an apology!
"Hey!" I yell out, the heat escaping my body as I walk out the door.
He doesn't turn around, only continues his graceful strides. Running to catch up, I walk alongside him, trying to catch his attention. He continues to ignore that I'm not there. He even gets in his car and starts the engine with me in the passenger seat, and I still don't get a reaction.
"Get out."
Ah. There's my reaction. Not the one I was hoping for, but a reaction nonetheless.
"No."
"Get. Out." He commands.
"No."
My stubborn nature is very much appreciated at this moment in time. I just hope it lasts.
"You won't get out?"
"No."
"Is 'no' the only word you can say?"
"No."
"Okay then. Here we go."
Revving his engine, his Bugatti Chiron Super Sport peels out of the driveway and drifts out into the street, cars beeping at us from both directions. My heart palpitates. Not in nervousness, but in excitement. I just found my inspiration.