A/N Yes I am aware of all the conflict with her being Israeli and Israel only being around a decade old, but just pretend. It's fanfiction!;)

Disclaimer: Suck it.

Sophia's POV

My journey to American was a complicated one. Long ago, at the very beginning of my life, before we even moved from Russia to the new state of Israel, I had been a מספר (m'saper) or a storyteller. Ever since my mouth could form words, I would tell tales that I had been told or even make up my own. In school, I would write constantly, creating new worlds in my head. After graduating from what American's call high school, I searched for a university with my interests. My parents never understood my urge to be an author, thinking it was a hobby, not a career. After a couple of years at an Israeli college, I made a decision that would affect everything. One of my friends, Eran, told me of a place where his brother lived called New York City. Now, all of us had heard of NYC, but I had never left the country. Eran told me that if I truly wanted to, I could pack my bags and go stay with his brother, Asaf. After much pondering, my mind was set. I packed the little belongings I had and he bought me a ticket to this magical land. The last thing I ever wrote in Israel was the letter saying farewell to my parents.

אמא, אבא,

.שתבינו מקווה ואני מאוד, אותך אוהבת אני .שם יתגשם סופרת להיות שלי החלומות .אמריקה את היום עוזב אני

אהבה הרבה,

סופיה

(Mom, Dad, I leave for America. My dream to be a writer comes there. I love you very much, and I hope you understand.

Much love, Sophia)

Writing those lines were the hardest thing I had ever done. The tears trickled down my face as I left it on their door step.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow." I spoke as I entered the small plane, looking upon the beautiful land I had known all my life.

Months Later

Notepad in hand, I rush to work at my job as a small time journalist at a not very well known newspaper. Despite the slowness of my success, I enjoy living in this country with my now boyfriend, Asaf. Love came quickly to us, but it was not true love, like in the fairy tales. I knew that one day, it would pass.

As I fumble with my things, I spot four strangely dressed men playing the street like children. A short man runs like the wind towards them, scolding them. One in an odd, fake looking moustache makes a joke, causing the others to laugh and the short man to glare at him. Chuckling at their ridiculousness, the one who made the joke looks at me with light brown eyes. They glisten like milk chocolate, which makes me hungry. I look away, as to not stare, but I cannot help looking back. As I realize that he is staring directly at me, I turn afraid, for he is considerably taller and stronger looking than myself. In my day dreaming, he approaches me.

"Can I help you… sir?" I ask, eyeing him up and down.

Suddenly, the short man tries to grab him, only to be shoved away. The tall one with shaggy long brown hair says something so quickly I cannot understand. The short man nods, fear in his eyes and drags the other boys away. One with a rather large nose whistles at me, making the others join in. With the flick of his hand, the tall one silences them.

"You are not from here, are you?" I ask, listening to the others chatter in what seems to be some dialect of a British accent.

Those curious brown colored eyes look into mine, thin lips opening to speak.

"Could say the same for you, sweet cheeks." His voice makes my heart swoon and my stomach do acrobatics. I laugh in order to keep the air between us fresh.

"Yes, you could. I am from a far away land, indeed." The thought of Israel pains me, so instead I casually flirt with him.

"Where is this mystical land that such beauties as you hail from?" he charms, winking and leaning towards me.

"Well thank you, sir. I am from Israel. I'd say you were from somewhere in the United Kingdom, am I correct?"

With a spark in his gorgeous eyes, he mutters, "You're good, Miss…"

"Sophia." I say, wanting to stay in his gaze forever.

"John."

As we turn, he asks for my telephone number. Quickly pulling my notepad, I jot down my number, hoping that one day, I will hear his haunting voice once more.

As we leave each other, I feel an electric current run through my body.

I must see this boy again.

John's POV

I could not help myself. As soon as Sophia left, I began following her. Not in a creepy manor, but something about this mysterious woman intrigued me. Also, one of my favorite past-times is pissing Brian off. Making sure to cover myself, I watch as she stops, looks around at the world around her, and then begins to jot something down in that notepad of hers. I observe this for awhile until the all too familiar voice of Paul McCartney sounds behind me.

"Whacha doin, Johnny boy?" he asks, breathe against my ear.

"Wut the fook, Paul? Can't cha see I'm busy? And don't call me that!" I whisper, hushing my loud friend.

"Busy?," he says, hazel eyes going to the small little fire headed woman writing her thoughts in her notepad, "If by busy, you mean stalking."

I shove him gently, not wanting to attract any attention.

"Did I ask you, Macca?" I snarl, walking away from Paul.

"No, luv, but it's quite obvious." He giggles.

"Paul," I state seriously, "Leave me be."

Noticing my serious state, his eyes turn to sympathy.

"She's just a girl, mate."

Continuing my quest, I look at him.

"She's something special, I just know it."

Please review and check out my other story Across The Universe: A Wrinkle Back in Time:) Thank yall! heartheart