(Source: ryandonato, via aneuromess)
(Source: ryandonato, via aneuromess)
The first rays of sunlight peaked up over the horizon, tinting the dark blue night sky. Shades of orange and pink enveloped the sky. The colours flickered and spread as it reflected on the surface of The Seine. Paris was relatively quiet this time of the day. Most people were still asleep. But in the quiet bohemian village of Montmartre, a young girl sat perched on the steps leading up to Sacré-Coeur Church watching the night take it’s last breath of life before the day took over. The young girl smiled with satisfaction. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The perfect way to start a day. The sun shined brightly as it rose to take it’s place in the sky, casting down it’s warm embrace. She closed her eyes gently, savouring the moment, feeling Paris’s soft summer breeze running through her hair.
At the bottom of the stairs, stood a young boy with a blank canvas in front of him. It was another day of work for the boy. He went there every morning to capture the beauty of Paris with his paint. He had lived in Paris for nearly five years and it still never failed to enchant him. The boy heard footsteps coming down the stairs leading up to the Sacré—Coeur Church. He turned around, wondering who may it be. There wasn’t usually anyone up here this early.
As the young girl slowly descended down the stairs, she noticed a dark haired boy standing in the corner of the street. He was around her age, maybe a little older. There was something about him that drew her to him. He was tall – maybe six foot or more, wearing a faded blue cardigan with a grey duffel bag slung casually over his wide shoulders. He had piercing blue eyes and chiseled features. Her heartstrings tugged at the sight of him. He turned around. She must have been staring because their eyes met. A familiar scene flashed through her mind, familiar yet distant. A scene from a dream. A boy and a girl meeting for the first time and falling in love. She had often heard of people describing love at first sight, but she – forever the skeptic, never believed it. Yet here she was, falling in love with a boy she’s never even talked to. But though, they’ve never talked, she knew him already. After all, he’s the boy that’s been running around in her dreams.
He turned around. Long tanned legs greeted him as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had long auburn hair that was dancing wildly in the wind. She had soft dominating chocolate brown eyes, the kind of eyes you can get lost in. Their eyes met. He felt his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful. But it was more than that. It was something else. He didn’t know what it was. But the moment their eyes met, he recognised her immediately, he knew she was the girl he’s been searching for, the girl from his dreams. The boy decided to take a chance. He plucked up his courage and gambled his heart. After all, once in a lifetime doesn’t happen again. It was now or never, he told himself. He walked up towards her. ‘Bonjour,’ he said, seemingly nonchalant while his heart was pounding inside him. ‘Hello there,’ she answered, smiling shyly. ‘Je m’appelle Emma.’ My name is Emma. ‘Je m’appelle Harry.’ He replied, giving her his best grin. It never failed to dazzle girls. She flushed. He grinned even wider. It worked. ‘J’ai été en attente pour vous.’ I’ve been waiting for you. He held out his hand. She took it and somehow, she knew this changed everything. Just a simple sentence, a simple love. Just a simple story of love at first sight.
Once upon a time in the city of Paris, there was a perfect boy and a perfect girl. The perfect boy and the perfect girl knew each other before they even met. They were each other’s perfect half. Once upon a time, in the city of love, a young girl and young boy fell in love at first sight. Just a simple story of boy meets girl.
number 1 rule of tumblr: you must reblog when ever our creator comes up on your dash.
(Source: luutopia, via bernaannelovesyou)
(Source: wworldofchances, via anch0rs-awayyy)
(Source: skate-high, via thewastedgeneration)
I’d rather be a kid and play with paper planes than be a man and play with a woman’s heart
(Source: narrys, via malikmalik)