A/N: Hello there! Last night I woke up at two in the morning, and a great idea for a story started to develop in my head. I've worked on it through the night and now I'm uploading it ) Have a nice time reading!

The beginning and end

I did not quite know what was going on. First, it seemed to be a picture I drew, then she had taken shape. She followed me everywhere I went, except when I was in the bathroom- she gave me my privacy. Sometimes she would crawl into my bed, but that only occurred when it was winter and I was very cold.

She had these bright, violet eyes, that looked like two drops of wine. Fine, well made wine, one that send you to heaven only by taking a small sip. Her fine, wavy, waist-length hair was the color of desert sand, hanging loosely over her shoulders. It never seemed to be out of shape, though she told me several times that it looked like crap and she wanted to cut it. But I said no, I loved her hair, I loved smelling it, touching it, although I actually touched nothing but air.

I know she’s still out there, trying to reach me, while I try to reach her. Sometimes I can’t continue breathing when I think about her. Other times I start to laugh hysterically, then go outside to get some fresh air and sort things out. We, no, I had been through tough times, but now I know they were only caused by myself. I was the psycho.

Chapter one: Meet the original creation

“Welcome sir, what can I do for you?”

I held out a piece of paper on which a name was written. “Hello, I have an appointment with Terrence Rowland.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll contact him that you have arrived. Please, take a seat over there, mister Rowland’s assistant will come to get you within a few minutes.”

I took a seat on one of the dark blue chairs, that stood against the white wall. While I waited, I studied some of the paintings, sometimes glancing towards the entrance of the building, where now and then a man or a woman entered. They all walked past the desk where the woman who had helped him sat, she greeted them with a smile and a “Good afternoon, sir” or a “Welcome back, miss”. She had her hair tied into a knot, which made her look older than I thought she was- but of course I did not ask, that would be offensive. Furthermore, she wore a dark skirt with a fitting black shirt, and she had a necklace that on its turn fitted with the color of her eyes. I had noticed them the second I walked into this building, they were so beautiful I had difficulties not to drown in them.

Suddenly someone pulled me out of my thoughts, saying “Hello sir, my name is Judy, I’m the assistant of mister Rowland. How do you do?” She had blond, short hair and looked very young, as if she had started working here a week ago. She was tall, though somewhat smaller than me, and dark blue eyes. Her smile was a polite one, not too shy and not too informal.

I stood up, smiled and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Judy, I am Samuel Adams.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, mister Adams. Please, follow me.”

“You can call me Samuel,” I quickly said, before she turned around and went to the elevator. I followed her and the elevator stopped at the seventh floor. There we went into a long hallway, at the end was a large, wooden door. There were a few paintings, spotlights gave the right effect and lit the hallway. There was no light where the door was, but it wasn’t necessary; it looked as if the door itself shone.

“Mister Rowland? Samuel Adams is here for you,” Judy said after knocking two times on the door.

“Yes, yes, of course, please, come in,” a heavy male voice said.

Judy opened the door, letting me in, and closed it again. I guessed she was going to her own office not far away from this one.

‘This one’ was a large office, with on the opposite side of the one of the door only windows that made the room very light- that’s why it had just looked like the door had given light. On the right was a large, ebony desk, with a laptop, piles of papers and a small, black lamp. Behind it was a man sitting on a chair, leaning backwards. He had short, dark hair and dark eyes, a somewhat fat looking face and his figure was also not the slenderest one. I guess it fitted with the kind of man and the kind of age he was and had, probably somewhere in his mid-forties, a bit too lazy to go to the fitness center everyday and work out.

“Welcome, mister Adams, please, take a seat.” He gestured towards the couch a few meters before the desk. I sat on it and tried to make myself comfortable, although the couch was a bit low and, even though I was quite tall, I had to look up to see Rowland’s face.

“Thank you, sir, I wanted to say I really appreciate it that you took the time to-”

“There’s nothing to thank about, it’s only natural that I invite you over here. Now, Samuel, can I call you Samuel? I can see you have a lot of talent, although your original idea did not really appeal us.”

He saw me looking a bit puzzled, and offended, so he explained: “There aren’t a lot of people who are into short stories, everybody prefers a novel. That’s why we, the company and I, offer you this: Try to add somewhat more pages -what about a hundred-and-fifty, twohundred?- and we’ll look at it again. Of course, you will get an agent who will help you, a very good one, one that can help you even through a writer’s block!”

First things first. They liked my story, but it was too short. But then again, everything would be different and the ending wouldn’t be as perfect as it was now. On the other hand, writing was what I did most and best, and I needed an income. I would also get an agent, Rowland had said a very good one. The idea sounded appealing, very appealing.

“All right,” I said with a polite smile. “I accept your offer. I’m looking forward to working with you, sir, and thanks again for taking time.”

"My pleasure,” Rowland said. “I can call the agent right now, if you want?”

“If that’s not too much of a trouble, yes please.”

“I’ll get Judy, it will only take a second.”

Rowland pressed his hand on a button on the phone on the desk and said: “Judy, could you please come into my office? And bring misses Powell with you. Thank you!”

“I hope it’s okay if I light a cigarette,” Rowland said. “Do you want one?”

“No,” I said, smiling politely. “I don’t smoke.”

“That is very good of you, I’d quit if I had the heart and the will,” the man opposite to me said, lighting his cigarette.

Judy came in, together with a middle-aged woman, with red hair and eyes that could look right trough you. It made me feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Judy, and hello, Diane. This is Samuel Adams, Samuel, this is Diane Powell. She will be your agent until you finish your story and maybe she’ll be your agent for the rest of your career. Miss Powell is a very good agent and knows how to motivate writers, so I think you will have no trouble with her. Now, let’s finish off the official things.”

The official things had taken about half an hour, and Miss Powell and I had had a small conversation. I tried not to look directly into her eyes as I spoke, but sometimes I had to because it would look impolite otherwise. We exchanged phone numbers and we left, she to the sixth floor, I to the ground floor and the exit. I walked past the desk where the beautiful woman was and greeted her with a polite smile. If only I had not been such a dreamer and had the courage to talk to her, it could have worked out, I guess.

But I was a dreamer and I did not have the courage, so after the greeting I left and went home. I took the bus, sat near the window, thought about another plot for my future novel. Maybe the end was just a fake on, it would all be a hallucination, set up by someone with evil intentions? No, that was not it, it had to be plausible, people with little imagination had to be able to read it.

I thought hard, harder and eventually stopped thinking, because it was obvious today wasn’t the day for these things. My actual thoughts went to the woman from the desk, the one I think I fell in love with the second I saw and talked to her. If only I could meet her again, talk to her again and ask her out. No, that would be too straightforward, he needed to come up with a different idea.

It took me twenty-five minutes to get home, my not so very small but still nice and cozy place. It was enough for me, since I was all by myself, but you noticed it immediately when there was another person, because the room would be easily filled. After putting my keys on the table, I filled a glass with water and drank it at once. I thought of going to visit a friend, go out, hire a movie, phone my sister, but none of these things seemed very attractive. Eventually I went to my bedroom- a chamber with one window, a bed, a bookshelf and a small pedestal cupboard- and read a book until it was time for dinner. I ordered some Chinese, watched a action movie on TV and went to bed at eleven thirty.

She appeared before me, smiling, and said: “You are the one I have been waiting for. Please, I want to be with you. Take me with you and we’ll survive the world, our love will be strong. We will kiss, make love, have simple fights about nothing and make up the minute after. Please, let me be with you.”

“Yes, I said, kissing her softly. “I want to be with you as well. Our paths have crossed, let them be tangled up in each other for the rest of our lives.”

“Now I have to go, tell my husband I’m going to divorce him,” she said.

I looked at her, puzzled. “Husband? You… You have a husband?”

“Yes,” she said, still smiling. “But we will be together for the rest of our lives. Now I have to go.”

“No! Wait! Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I have to go.”

“Wait! No, wait, wait!”

“To go.”

“Please, I beg you, wait! Please, listen to me, please, wait!”

So yeah, that was about it. Please tell me whether you liked it (or not), because at this point I can change about almost everything ) (although I still want it to be my story, no offence). Me loves reviews, just like everyone else does, it makes you feel slight important
Next chapter will be up as soon as possible! I already started, so it won't take me three months )

See ya!