Save Me From The Nothing I've Become

by T-REXandtheJEW

"My father, Doctor Hiram Berry, was a scientist. He was the man who perfected the cloning formula. He was the one to figure out how to transport from point a to point b. He was a genius." She laughed mechanically. "Who would have thought someone so smart could be so stupid."

1. There's Nothing Inside

A/N: Hello lovely readers! Welcome to my new story! I am sorry I kind of fell of the side of the earth for a while but I had zero inspiration to write! I got many messages about "Big Fat Heart" which I did in fact take down. I didn't like how it turned out and i am working on revising the story and will repost it. ANYWAYS, this story is nothing like my last one. It's extremely AU and different from anything I've written or read! I hope all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Reviews are welcome with open arms!
Also, thank you Tiffany (tanywral) for being my beta!
(Re-upload. It was deleted due to a cuss word in the desc. Will be uploading chapter 2 tonight!)
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. The title are lyrics from Bring Me To Life by Evanescence.

The camera slowly adjusts on her face. She fixes her bangs as she looks at her self on the screen, focusing her eyes on the camera. "Hello, my name is Rachel Barbra Berry. Today is-" She looks down on the screen, locating the date. "December eighteenth…" She stares at the camera, expressionless, blinking a few times. "My 22nd birthday." She stares back for a few more seconds before continuing. "Its twenty thirty-four, a time where the rich have themselves cloned and the poor live in abandoned towns. Where the wealthy have robot maids and the less fortunate still use wifi." She shakes her head a few times. "It's sick really, to have such incredible technology and to keep it to yourself. To not use it to help others, but selfishly hoard it." She pauses, momentarily looking down. Her head snaps back up to the camera, her eyes full of determination. "If I wanted, I could transport my self to the other side of the world, o-or even the moon in a matter of minutes and some people have to wire tap old two thousand some Ford's and Honda's to drive somewhere. Drive"

Running a hand through her long brown hair, she sighs, shaking her head again. "My father, Doctor Hiram Berry, was a scientist. He was the man who perfected the cloning formula. He was the one to figure out how to transport from point a to point b. He was a genius." She laughed mechanically. "Who would have thought someone so smart could be so fucking stupid." She spit bitterly. "My father was always working, all day everyday. It was his life" Her expression still hard and unreadable. "He always brought his work home, but it was when he started using me as a test subject." She laughed shortly. "My mother was pissed. She tried to run away with me but my dad being the all rich and powerful man, had her thrown in jail for "kidnapping me". I haven't seen her since and that was when I was nine years old." She sighed, her dead gaze burning into the camera. "My father had a theory. A theory that you could remove "emotions". For example, say you didn't want to fear anything ever again, he believed he could remove your fear emotion…" She looked away from the camera momentarily; she looked as if she was having an internal battle with herself. She looked back to the lens and pushed on. "Of coarse the amazing Hiram Berry was right. You could remove emotions. Some big wig business man would call requesting a certain emotion to be removed and my father would remove it." Her eyes burned with hatred as she pushed on. "It's funny… The only emotions no one requested to have removed were happiness, pleasure and hatred." She laughed almost painfully. "Since I was my fathers personal test subject, if someone were to request a emotion removal and my father had never removed said emotion, he'd remove mine to make sure that he could."

Minutes ticked by and the silence went on. "He never did figure out how to replace emotions… Having tried desperately to fix me… Make me normal again instead of the emotionless shell of a person I am…" She stretched her arms above her head, cracking her knuckles as she returned to her original position. "He began hating himself for what he'd done to me… which he should. It drove him crazy, turning him into a raging alcoholic." She shrugged her shoulders. "He popped one too many pills washing them down with a bottle of whiskey and that was that. He died two years ago today." Her laugh was hard, cruel almost. "The whole fucking world is mourning my father today, saying he was an amazing man, a hero. It's funny how people think they know a person they've never even met. Only seen them in interviews and magazines on holograms…" She reached to her right, grabbing a glass of water and taking a long drink. She sat the glass back down and looked back to the screen.

"I wish I could forgive my father, I really do, but he made that impossible since he took my forgiveness emotion nine years ago." She looked away from the camera, the glowing light shining on her beautiful face. "I hate my father. I don't want to, but I do…" She bites down on her bottom lip, the small scar that graces her upper lip being highlighted in the light. "I've been doing one of these stupid video diaries for fourteen years… this is the last one I'll ever do. I mean why even bother anymore? The whole purpose of the stupid video diary was for my fathers studies." She sighed, shaking her head, the burning leaving her eyes. "I've never hated my father more then I do now… I've never wanted to feel more then I do now. I want to be able to love more then anything in the world." She flipped her silky hair over her shoulder. "I used to not care. Love was for weak people and Rachel Barbra Berry was not weak. But… now I want it. I want to be able to look at him the way he looked at me…" Her eyes looked away as painful thoughts and memories filled her mind. "It all started about six months ago…"

i.

The loud music blasted from the expert, state of the art sound system. Rachel punched the bag a few times before doing a flawless kick combination making the heavy bag swing as it was suspended from the ceiling. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she continued beating the bag, grunts and screams ripping through her throat. She ripped off her small boxing gloves and tossed them to the floor. She walked across the large room to an open area where she practiced her Muay Tai. She was trained in four different forms of martial arts, she could shoot a gun with grace and incredible accuracy. Rachel Berry decided a long time ago that she was going to focus her "emotions" on something that would help her. Rachel was a very hateful person, hate being one of her only emotions, it wasn't that big of a surprise. She barely left her home, not liking being around normal people with normal emotions, she hated it. Plus being the daughter of one of the worlds "most influential people" everyone knew who she was. And everyone expected her to follow in her fathers foot steps, but the only thing she want's to do is figure out how to get herself back. She had no friends, she'd never been kissed or had a boy friend, both of her parents were gone, she was alone with a heart full of hate.

She let out a yell as she began beating up the standing dummy whom she named Manie. Her brow was set into a tight scowl and move after move, she didn't feel anymore normal. She heard her music fade and Hank begin talking through the speakers. "Ms. Berry, I have found the gentleman you had me locate, he is currently residing in what was once Brooklyn, New York." Rachel stilled her movements, her breathing uneven as her chest rose and fell. She grabbed a towel off of the rack and wiped the sweat from her face.

"Wait, Arthur Abrams lives in Brooklyn?" Rachel asked as she grabbed her water, drinking some thirstily, hanging the small towel off of her shoulder. She walked out of the sliding glass doors into the glass elevator that quickly rose until she was in her office. She walked over to the table and as if on cue, all the info Hank collected began popping up on the hologram screens.

"Yes Ms. Berry. When he was escorted off C9, he had to take his family with him." Rachel flicked through the pages and pictures of one Arthur Abrams. Arthur's father worked for her father a few years back. Apparently he knew how to replace missing emotions, but Rachel's father being the hard headed, I-have-to-do-everything-on-own man he was, would hear nothing of it. Arthur's father was fired and never aloud in the city again. Her father tried to contact him just before he killed himself, not caring who found a way just as long as someone did. Mr. Abrams never responded.

That must be why Arthur resides in Brooklyn. Rachel had never been to New York, or any of the states in what was know as the United States of America. She grew up in what was called Cloud 9. It was a world above the world. The sidewalks and streets were made of unbreakable glass; you could look down and see the dying earth below. The skyscrapers on earth went into the clouds, Cloud 9's went into the stars. It was amazing living on Cloud 9, it really was, but a part of Rachel had always wanted to see earth and not from above.

"Hank get my bath ready then begin packing me a bag. I'm going on a little trip." Rachel said as she shuffled off, leaving her office. He moved into the kitchen grabbing an apple from her fully stocked fridge.

Hanks voice came through yet again. "Ms. Berry, I really hope you aren't planning on visiting earth are you?" She didn't reply, but just bit into her apple and walked to the glass wall that over looked all of C9. "They will kill you. They hate people of C9."

Hank was her, for lack of better words, robot best friend. He was everywhere in the house. He updated Rachel on anything she wanted to know. He would prepare anything she needed and wouldn't leave until she requested him to. He wasn't an actual person or robot physically he was just a voice; he kind of was the house. Everyone on C9 had their own Hank.

"Well then we'll have something in common now won't we?" She took another bite into her apple, backing away from the glass wall and moving towards her bedroom. "When you pack my bag Hank, make sure it has plenty of food, water, clothing, guns, ya know the necessities okay?" She continued eating her apple as she returned to the elevator, it rose quickly and the rooms grew darker.

As she moved out of the elevator, the lights came to life with every step she took. She pushed open the large double doors that separated the long hallway to her bedroom. He room was of coarse large, elegant and feminine. Her closet was half the size of her room which was ridiculous because she never left her condo. Her favorite was her bathroom. It had a large Jacuzzi tub that sat right below a large glass window that showed the stars. Of coarse you couldn't see into her upstairs glass walls, or any for that matter. But it was her favorite place to be.

As requested, the tub was full of hot bubbly water, the jets pushing the water around. She turned her shower on, stripping off her small black shorts and hot pink sports bra. Rachel stepped into the shower and cleaned off the sweat that covered her from head to toe. She walked out of the shower and into the warm whirling water. She relaxed herself, her head leaning back and staring up through the glass ceiling, admiring the stars above. She always wondered what it would be like to love. Out of every human emotion, love was the one she yearned for the most. She's heard the songs, she's seen the movies, and read the books about love. About how the man and woman fall hopelessly in love. Slow motion runs through fields of spring flowers. Being swept off their feet, falling head over heels in love… She wants that and she hates that she can't have it.

And God she hates hating everything! She wishes her father would have removed the hate emotion so she could at least be happy. Happiness and hatred don't usually go together and since she has nothing to be happy about and tons to hate… well she a hater.

She spends a good amount of time sulking in the water before climbing out and wrapping a towel around herself. She walked over to the mirror and looked over her appearance. Rachel Berry was a very petite, and small woman. She had been training in martial arts for years so she was in incredible shape. Not to mention dance and yoga. Rachel's life long dream was to be a famous singer, ever since she was little girl, before everything went to shit. Her mother was a singer, she was incredible and Rachel wanted to be incredible too. She used to have hope that she'd be a singer one day until she lost her hope emotion. She even taught herself to play the piano and the violin, being kept inside as a test subject gave you plenty of time to practice.

She tapped on one of the drawers and it opened producing brushes, combs, and picks. She grabbed a brush and began running it through her hair. Her wet brown hair fell down a little ways past her elbows. She continued staring at herself, her olive skin, prominent nose, and full rosy lips. She swallowed thickly as she gazed at the scar that was permanently attached to her skin. It was a pink color, sticking out against her smooth skin. She got it when she was eighteen when her dad first started drinking. She quickly found out that he was an angry violent drunk. Maybe he should have removed his own emotions instead of hers. She thought to herself. He had just finished yet another unsuccessful try at getting her emotions back and he just went crazy. Yelling at her as if it were her fault that he decided to use his only child as a lab rat. At this time Rachel had seven emotions still, happiness, pleasure, hatred, rage, aggression, frustration, and depression. She was not afraid what's so ever to fight back. She ended up slapping her father after he had called her and her mother some incredibly awful things. Her father in his alcohol induced stupor had pushed her down the stairs. She hit her face on the hand railing, cutting her just above her lip. She even chipped a few three teeth, but she fixed those. If she wanted, she could go and get the scar removed, but Rachel has had enough things removed from her… Rachel would like to keep as much as she could even though this particular memory makes her hate her father even more.

Rachel had big brown eyes, with long lashes. Her left eye however was lighter then the right due to the many procedures. The procedure consisted of and very delicate and accurate laser, which was made to seek out a certain emotion, whatever emotion was typed into the machine. That laser went into the center of her left eye, right through the pupil, and sent certain chemical currents through the optical nerve and into the brain, killing whatever a certain emotion needed to be recognized and felt. Rachel (and Mr. Abrams) tried telling her father that since he was in fact killing certain parts of the brain he had needed to recreate what was killed in order to regain that emotion. He didn't listen and insisted there was a way to repair what was dead.

Her left eye was noticeably lighter; it was a darker, caramel color where as her right eye was a deep chocolate brown. It freaked people out at first, when it had first started changing colors. Some had found it incredible, but Rachel hated it. Surprise, surprise.

Once she walked out of her bathroom and into her closet, Hank was back. "Your bag is all pack and ready, waiting for you by the transporter Ms. Berry." He wasn't aloud to notify her anything unless it was an emergency whenever she is in the bathroom for privacy reasons. She picked some jeans and a black v- neck long sleeve shirt.

"Thanks Hank. How's the weather in New York? I know its December and it should be freezing but with the whole global warming scenario… I don't want to wear a snow suit and it be eighty degrees." About fifteen years ago, earth started getting signs of global warming. Glaciers melting, winters warmer then ever, all that jazz.

"The current temperature in New York is sixtyy eight degrees. With what you have picked out and a light jacket, you should be just fine." Rachel nods and tosses her clothes on her California king bed. Of coarse she didn't need that big of a bed, nor did she have anyone to help occupy it but she liked her space.

"Perfect." Rachel muttered to herself as she walked to her dresser and grabbed a pair of panties and a matching bra. "Now if you'll excuse me Hank, I need to change."

"Of coarse Ms. Berry. My apologizes. Let me know if you may need anything."

"Thanks Hank." And with that, he was gone. Rachel pulled on her black panties followed by her bra. She walked into the bathroom and grabbed some lotion and rubbed it all over her skin. She rubbed her thumb over the small tattoo that graced her left hipbone. Love. It was simple, black, and cursive. She went out and got it when she was eighteen, a few days after her dad had pushed her down the stairs. She knew you only had to be twelve to get tattoos on Cloud 9, but she never really wanted one until she did.

She sighed and walked back into her room and quickly got dressed. She put on some socks and slipped on a brand new pair of sneakers from her closet. "Hank?"

Rachel called into the empty condo as she made her way down to the transporter. "Yes Ms. Berry?" She stopped in the kitchen grabbing a salad from the fridge.

"Will you set the transporter for a few miles outside of New York? I don't want to just show up out of no where. I want to blend in." Grabbing a fork she starts eating her salad as she continues her way to her bottom floor.

"As you wish." She gets into a separate elevator that is no where near as glamorous as the main, but it goes down to her father's old lab and the transporter. When the doors opened and she stepped out, she noticed the black backpack and dark grey jacket. Checking the backpack to make sure she'd have everything she'd need. There was a pop up shelter, should she need it. An emergency first aid kit with all the latest medical technology. She rolled her eyes. Clothes, water, food packets, looked good except… "Your weapons are secured in your jacket." Hank added. "The jacket by the way, the dial by the left breast pocket, should you get cold or too warm, turn the dial and it will either heat or cool you."

"Thanks Hank but these jackets aren't exactly new…" Jackets like the one that she was now pulling on had been around for a while actually.

"I know, I just thought I'd remind you. You haven't really been in need of a jacket in quite sometime." She sighed putting on the backpack. Sometimes she really hated Hank, but he was her only friend so she tried to hate him less.

"Alright Hank. I'll be back soon. Keep an eye on the house and I'll let you know if I need you." I patted the right shoulder of the backpack which held a small cellular device so she could keep in contact with Hank.

"Be safe Ms. Berry." With that she stepped into the transporter and hit the green button, transporting her to New York City.

Rachel had seen older movies where they had transporters, but in the movies a bunch of colors fly passed, its quite trippy actually, but that's not at all what it's like. It's quick and painless. Everything is black for a few seconds and then you're there. It's like slowly blinking your eyes.

Rachel opened her eyes and looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. She somehow felt… heavier down here. Which was probably due to the about of gravity down here. There obviously was gravity up on C9, but not as much as there was here. She saw tons of tall buildings in the distance, identifying that as NYC. She began walking towards the city, noticing all the trees and plants that they didn't really have on C9. They had some flowers and what not but here they were everywhere. She pulled out the old a device which would show her where Arthur Abrams was in this exact moment. It looked like he was about five miles away; pocketing the small device she began moving in the direction of Arthur Abrams.

It took her a little less then two hours to make it into the city, which many people were walking around. Rachel quickly reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her sunglasses, putting them on. She didn't need to attract any attention seeing as everyone around her probably hated her. She looked around at all the old buildings and glowing signs. It looked like an old, less high tech C9. They had our own version of New York up in the sky.

Everything she noticed was extremely dirty, so much different from her home where everything was shiny clean. Rachel accidentally bumped into someone, who in returned angrily told her to watch where she was going. Interesting. In the air or on earth… everyone was an asshole. Who knew?

She finally made it to the building where the answer to her problems may be. She looks over the housing list, locating an Abrams; she made her way up to the room and knocked on the door.

She stood waiting outside the apartment, her sunglasses still on just to be safe. She heard the turn of multiple locks, a chain, and finally the door handle before the door opened. The man who opened the door was a short man with curly dark brown hair. He had dark eyebrows but soft kind eyes, and a sweet smile. "Can I help you?" He asked expectantly.

"Yes. I'm looking for an Arthur Abrams." She said trying her best to sound as professional as possible. She was glad to see recognition in his face.

"Hold on one second okay?" She nodded her head before he turned and disappeared into the apartment. She heard the man who answered the door holler to Arthur, but calling him Artie, telling him someone was here to see him.

A few moments later a slim guy with glasses and big blue eyes appears in front of her. He looks down at her for a moment. "You wanted to see me?" He said confusion in his voice.

"Yes. I'm seeking help and you're the only one who can help me." She said watching his face become even more confused then before.

"I- I don't understand what you mean… you need my help? Wait what?" And here was the hard part. Rachel was hoping he would decide to help her, to not blame her for her father's doings like everyone else into this sick world. But like it or not, she was expecting for him to laugh and slam the door in her face.

"Your father, Dr. Abrams, used to work for one Hiram Berry correct?" Rachel asked studying his reactions.

"…Yes… I still don't understand what that has to do with me. He got fired when I was like ten years old." Rachel nodded holding her hands out to stop him from continuing.

"Yes I know. And I'm terribly sorry, but your father knew things that I need to know. I need to know how to reverse the emotion removal procedure." She didn't mean to just spit it all out, but the words just kind of flew out of her mouth.

"…So you're one of those rich fixed up girls from C9, who wants to be normal again?" She could hear the disgust in his voice, see it in his face.

"No I'm not. I'm the test subject. The one who has no emotions, the one how can't feel anything other than hatred, pleasure, and happiness. If you didn't put it together yet, it hard to be happy when you hate everything." She spoke the last few words out of her gritted teeth, hating the way he looked at her as if she had asked for this herself.

He looked at her questioningly for a moment before smiling a ghost of a smile. "Your Hiram's daughter aren't you?"

Rachel hated the way he said her fathers name, she really hated hearing his name in emotionral. "Yes." She spit out.

"Rachel Barbra Berry." He crossed her arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame. "Prove it." She knew exactly what he meant by that. Only a few people knew about the side effects of emotion removal and he was one of them.

She looked down and slowly removed her sunglasses. She sighed and looked back up into his eyes, watching as his light up with interest. "So it's true? It makes the iris of the human eye lighter?" He stepped closer, looking into her eye. "Fascinating." He said just above a whisper.

He stepped back from her shaking his head, his perfect white teeth gleaming in his smile. "Believe me now?" Rachel asked tucking her glasses into her pocket.

He nods. "W-would you like to come in?" She asks, pushing the door open wider, his eyes still trained on hers.

"Yeah, thanks." She rolled her eyes when she looked back to him, he was still staring. This is why she didn't like to go out. People stare and she hates it. She knew Artie was staring because he was fascinated where as other stare because she looks like a freak.

Rachel walks into the apartment which is much bigger then she imagined. There were two men sitting on the couch watching TV on a… HDTV? Wow those are old. The place was nice. It was weird not being able to just stare out at the world like in C9. The walls here were not made of glass.

"Blaine, Kurt, this is Rachel. Rachel, these are two of my roommates. Guys, don't stare at her left eye." Rachel rolled her eyes yet again. Was he an idiot? Tell them not to stare and of coarse now they will just to see what not to stare at. And this was the man who was supposed to help her?

"Artie… you can't tell someone not to stare and expect them not to. Now we have to." The smaller boy on the couch said. He was dress in formfitting clothing. Very elegant but yet casual. He would fit in just well in C9.

"It's okay. Stare away." She half expected them to turnaround a continue watching TV, but no. They stood up and walked right on over, studying my eyes.

"Whoa, how'd you get that?" The curly haired one known as Blaine asked. The other gentlemen was looking more at my outfit then my oh so interesting eye.

"Birth defect." Rachel said shrugging. Artie nods, understanding why she chose not to voice her crazy messed up past.

"Seriously? This is awesome. You're like a human husky." Blaine said his face extremely close to hers. Kurt pulls him away and holds his hand out for her to shake.

"Kurt Hummel. Pleasure to meet you." Rachel shakes his hand quickly, forcing a smile to her lips. She hates meeting new people.

"Okay guys, I need to talk to Rachel. If you'll excuse us." Artie holds open a door to what I assume is his bedroom? He question answered when she steps foot into the room. It was a typical guys room, or from what she knew. The only bedroom she's seen besides the ones on TV was her fathers and that doesn't count.

"Okay so, you need me to help you get your emotions back… correct?" She watched him move around his room. He pulled a chest out from the floor of his closet.

"Umm… y-yeah. I just want to feel something other then hatred." He clicked open the clasps of the chest, fishing keys from his pocket, using one to unlock the dark brown chest.

"My dad left this stuff for me. I won't be able to do anything without the right equip-"

"I have a lab at my house! I'll pay you whatever you want I just need your help." She had a feeling if she could beg, if she had the emotions for it, she'd sound extremely pathetic.

"I would love to go to your father's lab. That place is legendary." She hated the way her praised her father as if he were some saint. Her father wasn't a bad man, he wasn't. He was a good man who let his work and success control his life, he became power hungry.

"So you'll help me?" She asked as he opened the chest. It was full of papers, formulas maybe?

"I'll do my best. I'll have to located his notes and studies on the emotion removals, but I'm almost positive he had a way to undo it." He stopped sifting through the papers and looked up at me. "He only started this whole thing," he said motioning to the papers in front of him. "so that he could help you." This made Rachel happy, a feeling she hadn't felt for a while. That feeling didn't last long though as the hate crept back in. How could her father not at least look at Dr. Abrahams theories?

"When I was younger, six maybe, my mother and I got into a horrible car crash. She died, but I survived." Rachel wanted to feel for him, but she couldn't. She didn't feel anything. "I lost the ability to use my legs, paralyzed from the waist down." He looked down at his legs, moving one of his feet. "My father practically killed himself trying to find a cure." He smiled. "He did. About a year before he began working for your dad. He wanted to do for you what he did for me. He wanted to help you."

Rachel furrowed her brow, trying to summon any emotion at all. "I'm sorry." She said dryly. She hated the sound of her own voice.

Artie waved it off. "It's not your fault. Now. I'm assuming you don't have a place to stay?" He asked arching an eyebrow.

"No, but I could find a place. I wouldn't burden you with expecting you to house me as well." Artie stood from the floor. A smile on his face.

"Non sense. You'll stay here." He furrowed his eyebrows. "You may have to sleep on the couch though. I don't think the other three guys want to share there beds."

"The couch is fine." She was expecting to have to use the pop up shelter, which was nice, but a dead give away the she was from C9. "Wait three roommates?"

Artie pulled open his door and walked back out to the living room. "Yeah, Finn. He will be home later. Work." He said making a gagging noise which made her smile, a foreign feeling.

"Oh cool" Finn… that's a nice name, Rachel thought to herself.

ii.

After eating dinner and spending time with her new friends? She found herself getting ready for bed. She cursed Hank for packing her usual pajama's which consisted of small silk pajama shorts and a matching top which stopped right above her hip bone. Why on earth would she wear this in this situation? Then again why wear it while at home all alone?

She brushed through her hair before beginning to brush her teeth. She heard a knock at the door and mumbled a "one minute" tooth paste spilling from her mouth into the sink. She bent down to spit and stood back up to the door opening and a half naked man standing in the doorway.

Her eyes went wide as they traveled down the muscular plane of his bare chest. He was wearing athletic shorts which hung just right in his hips. She swallowed thickly and looked up to see his face. She had to crane her neck due to his astonishing height and her small petite form. Her breath caught in her throat at then beauty this man was. His face was memorizing. He had a strong jaw line and dimples that made her stomach flutter. His cheeks were covered in stubble connecting above his lips- his lips. God she wanted to kiss them. She had never felt this way towards anyone before. She knew it wasn't love because she can't love… lust maybe? Lust was an effect of pleasure right? Was she in lust with the man that stood in front of him? Her thoughts vanished as she finally looked into his eyes. They were kind eyes, the kind of eyes she could stare into forever. The color of his eyes amazed her. They were the color of her left eye but his were a wonderful cinnamon color, were as hers had a dark, dull cloud hanging over them.

She blinked her eyes at him a few times to make sure he was real. His mouth twitched into a half smirk. "Hi…"

A/N2: So what did you think? Hate it? Love it? Would you continue to read this story if I wrote more? Let me know! Reviews = Love!