Hey every body sorry this isn't a fanfic I'm writing a book and would really love soom good or bad reveiws. This is all original material and this Book will be published. But its in the out lineing stage.
"Faded Petals"
Ch: 1 Meeting for the first time.
Dust settled onto the old wicker cabinets, while the outside world was pelted relentlessly, the cobblestone streets just beyond the window pane seeming to drown in its anger. The faded drapes of the old museum did nothing to damper the sound of the maelstrom that pounded the old roof with thunderous fury. Staring out at the storm I cautiously await my impending fate. Soon like the streets below I would be at its mercy. Shaking my head in discontent I watched the storm fulfill its unsuspecting wrath. The Heavens were alight in silver streaks of lightening which sprang up from the ground like frightened rabbits seeking shelter. The thunder so great was the intensity that the very foundation shook at its clash. The sky pouring rain, as if a drought had scoured the land of its nutrients. Filling up street corners and flooding drains, threatening to flood the city. Looking out into the night I knew no soul would go unscathed in weather such as this, knowing that it was next to impossible to make it home now. I sighed another night on the job, for the last two nights the rain seemed to go on forever the lakes and streams swelling flooding small valleys.
Placing a hand on the cool glass, I leaned forward looking through the rain that fell like glittering shards of glass, translucent but difficult to see. The glass fogged over as I pressed my face closer, peering out into the night seeing nothing except the ordinary wishing I had seen something other than a lonely night. Shivering I backed away from the glass, the nights air freezing my bare shoulders. Here at the museum hours before we had a special presentation on ancient people, it's part of my job description to dress and tell about the many cultures of the ancient world. The outfit was scratchy and would never work for our civil society. Reluctantly I proceeded to close the tattered drapes when something out in the darkness caught my attention. A figure out in the onslaught pelted by the hail size droplets, standing on the street side not seeking shelter. At first look the figure seemed to blend into the rain, looking as if they belonged there within its watery clasp. Something about the figure was terrifying, though they looked kind enough. Gazing further into the rain, that fell like solid walls around it. I strained to get a better look. The street lights did nothing to aid me, the florescent lights not strong enough to banish the rains eerie conquest. Shifting my position slightly to get a better look I was suddenly captured by the figures luminous eyes. This stood out in the gloomy surroundings like a rose on a bed of thorns. Eyes so blue that the sky was dimmer in comparison, saddened, like some fallen angel. They seemed to draw me in like a moth to a flame drowning in the depth of his searing soul. I was mesmerized by this feudal god. But sadly as quickly as it began it was over the figure adverted his gaze at the last moment moving from the sidewalk to the street, approaching the museum in which I made my refuge. Closing the drapes instinctively I made my way to the door, having unconiously decided to let a stranger into the museum. As if a voice was whispered sweetly in my ears begging me forward into the unknown. Forcibly I stoppedmy body all the willing to let in the angel on my door step. I had a feeling that if my head wasn't attached, my body would still be running to him. Breathing deeply I advanced to the door way having decided that even strangers don't deserve to drown, no matter how beautiful. Though it doesn't hurt. Cautiously I moved forward, combing my fingers though my hair to sort out the annoying tangles that seemed more numerous today Quietly my slippers slid across the floor, my elaborate costume taking on a tranquil appearance. The door to the museum was nothing like those you see on TV, the fancy brass door that seem to shine a bit to much for real lifeto clean. No these doors were good old fashion cedar, thick and heavy but perfect for the job. Holding my breath I flung open the door partially afraid my eyes were deceiving me. But just like they promised there he was. Rain dripping in cascading waves off his sullen trench his crystal eyes shimmering beneath his soaked bangs, beautiful, there were no words to describe. Has God saved me from my crushing loneliness; saved me for once. The kind of miracle you'd think God would bring. My heart fluttered already malleable putty in his hands. He stepped closer so that his profile was clearer under the florescent light. He like many other Americans today was sporting a black trench, which covered him down to the knees. Freezing wind blew into the doorway, throwing my long locks into it, ripping angrily through it. Pushing at my thin outfit licking away all the warmth in my body. But I paid no mind I stood there like an idiot captivated by his magnificence. He unlike anyone I'd ever seen blew off the weather like it was never there. Looking into his face I was shocked to find, that his piercing eyes were filled to the brink with anguish. His perfect features were twisted in agony. My fragile heart shattered. What ailed this celestial being, what torment had befallen this angel? Like usual all I had was questions never answers. Searching the endless void that was his eyes I strived for an answer. Desperate to wipe away that look upon his face. My search was in vain. Silently I moved from the doorway, giving him consent to enter. Without saying a word he proceeded inside. His footsteps made no noise as he entered and the scent radiating from his was enticing. The rain out side though it seemed it couldn't get any worse it proved me wrong. A hurricane it seemed outside the wind blowing at an alarming rate. Beating the sides of the museum in relish, howling murderously, over and over threatening all those who opposed. My mind was trying to distract itself aiming to be polite. People really hate it when you stare at them which in my opinion they shouldn't care, but society today could not be silenced. Snapping back into reality I realized I'd frozen in place again my internal monologue keeping my attention. Quickly I flung my gaze toward him. Surprised to see him just standing there mute and watchful. He just stood there not a word spoken from his full lips. Nothing but those blazing eyes gave me awareness that he was even alive. Those searching orbs that looked me over in relish. The agony swiped clean from his face. Blushing, I silently studied him as well. His face was flawless, his feathered eyebrows screamed intelligence. But what was most peculiar was the insignia on the right of his face. It looked like a tattoo but as close as I stood you could tell it was not. The mark on his face was actually a burn. A normal person would not have recognized it right away, but then again not many are certified to be firefighters anymore.