When Juliet met Romeo
Chapter one: Who's that man?
I woke early on Monday April 1st. My ordinary hazel eyes took in the time on the bedside digital alarm clock: 5:30. Reaching out a slender light olive arm, I switched the alarm off.
Staying in bed for a few minutes I grabbed my lilac I-pod off the top of the alarm clock. I tucked my chocolate brown mid-length ringlets behind my small ears and began to listen to music. The song that came on was one of my cousin's band, the orange acids, songs.
I'd been in the band as a teenager, but Saint. Andrews had accepted me into their university the same day that the band had been approached by Simone Cowelt. He wanted to sign us because he loved the compilation CD Tybalt had sent. I left the band for university.
By the time the song and memory had ended I was wide awake and staring up at the dull white ceiling. Pulling back the mauve covers I decided wearing my red tracksuit would be perfect for my jog in the morning sun. It was forecast warm and windy.
As soon as I had been in the shower and gotten dressed I headed into the kitchen to find something to eat.
Half an hour later I arrived at the park and all the leaves were glistening in the morning sunlight. I jogged through the perfect park, wind rushing wildly through my hair as I did so. Destination: Lake. I was running low on energy due to not having rested since I'd left the flat.
It only took me five minutes to reach the middle of the park. When I arrived there I realised I wasn't the only one who was a big fan of my favourite lake.
The other person there was a man. Even though I was standing behind him, his short hair was a huge clue to his gender.
I took my seat on the bench next to the stranger. When he noticed he was no longer alone, he turned to look at me and I got a better look at him.
His midnight black messy hair shone like spun gold in the morning sun. Eyes of sparkling and precious emerald green looked at me casually. The last but far beyond least feature I noticed was his radiantly dark olive complexion.
I turned my gaze to the lake, just in time to see an amazing jade coloured frog hop onto the stone in front of me. The green was almost as incredible as the stranger's eyes. I bent down and scooped up the frog into my hands.
No sooner had I straightened up on the bench, stroking Frank the frog, than the stranger beside me spoke for the first time.
'What's with the frog?' He asked in his beautiful Spanish accent that was a unique lullaby; almost as beautiful as his eyes.
'Excuse me?' I asked in a confused and shocked voice. Just because I was a girl didn't mean I had to love butterflies and cringe at frogs.
'How rude of me not to introduce myself, I'm...'