The Architect (Part 1)
Narr pov
Zoe Mitchells was at a bar. The Spinning Monkey Bar to be exact.
She promised herself she would never become one of those sad women, drowning their sorrows in a bottle of gin or two, but here she was.
Trying to forget. Forget him. Adrian Espinoza. '5'9', great body, olive skin, rich brown eyes and a smile that could keep you awake for hours. During the time they were together she had felt as if she was on top of the world. The facade shattered surprisingly when she had got home to find him with her best friend, Rebecca Browning.
Guess she didn't know an angry women could throw an ornamental vase *that* hard. Bitch was still in the hospital. So yeah, here she was ordering yet another Bahama Momma. (hi five to people who watched that Scrubs episode)
To tell you a little bit about Zoe, she is an aspiring architect. She had already been taken into consideration for a new project involving a fashion show for cats. A bit weird but it was fun and the pay was good. People often said she had a mind like a maze. No one could navigate it but herself. She liked that. But lately she had felt like someone could navigate her mind, and was. In her dreams.
Her "Mystery Man "as she liked to call him. Combed hair, a hint of a goatee, and a sexy British accent that melted her heart. In her dreams they were always somewhere different, but it was the same thing. "They are coming." No beating around the bush, just...that. She didn't know what it meant. Little did she know that "they" were about to take over her life.
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"Hullo "Zoe gasped. Her Mystery Man! "Erm I am kind of new at this but, can I buy you a drink?" She turned around. Same face, same voice, same... everything!
"Um, well, I guess." 'Way to go Zoe! Someone asks you a simple question and you make an ass of yourself. '"Cool, 2 Screaming Orgasms please. She was shocked. They had just met, yet he was coming onto her like she was a prostitute. "I refuse to be talk- "He smiled at her and covered her mouth." I meant the drinks darling "she immediately felt herself redden.' Of course there the drinks, you dolt! 'She berated herself.
When she looked up the man was no longer smiling, he was mixing the drinks with a stony expression on his face. He handed her a purplish liquid that smelled like berries and sex. "Now before you drink that, there are two things you need to know about me: one, my name is Eames and two, I am a forger." I absentmindedly took a sip of the drink. The last thing I saw was Eames' face crumple as I choked out "Bastard!" and then I was plunged into darkness.
Sorry so short guys! I will make it up to you. I have already written some of my chappies but there is room for more! R&R peez!