Hi! I'm back and with this new story! :) It's short I know, but I really like how it came out and hopefully you will to. ;) Please read and reveiw!- Inabell98
I don't own Scooby-Doo and or any of it's characters.
The Street Light
On a lonely street in the small town of Coolsville, and single street light stood.
The barely visible figure of a young adult can be seen leaning against the gray metal of the street light. It's spotlight shone directly onto the boy. His hair was blonde; a very yellowish blonde. A pumpkin orange ascot was lazily tied around his muscular neck. A white sweater hugged his body as to show his muscles. A simple pair of jeans finished his outfit.
The man is Fred Jones. His hands are in the pockets of his jeans fiddling with the loose change he had found in his room. One leg is crossed over the other, yet both are touching the pavement of the street.
A few times every year, Fred is at this very spot, in this very same position just….. thinking. This is his "thinking" place.
Though the inhabitants of the houses surrounding his spot might find it odd seeing him there and probably want him out, Fred will stay there as long as he wants. Its not like anyone owns the stupid street light.
Usually, Fred with come here to reminisce about the wonderful things he has in his life, and how they couldn't get any more perfect. But three weeks ago, they did.
Daphne Blake became Fred Jones' girlfriend.
Fred came to his thinking spot right after leaving his girlfriend's house. His mind was now on Daphne; on her strawberry lips that he had kissed earlier today. How he obtained such a perfect person, he'll never know. But one thing was very clear; he doesn't and won't ever deserve her.
She's flawless and can stop the world on it's heel. He, on the other hand, is clumsy, and can't even build a trap that actually works.
He took his hand out of his pocket and ran it through his hair. His head was pressed against the pole of the street light.
No matter how much he loved her or how much he desired her, he couldn't hold her back. She should be happy and live her dreams, even if it's not with him.
"She'll be better without me," Fred muttered under his breath. He took out a blue Blackberry phone out of his right jean pocket. Slowly he dialed Daphne's number.
617-178-7117 (Not a real number. Don't call. :D)
Daphne answered "Fred?"
"Daphne? We need to talk."
