|Falling Over Me
Author: Lady Femme Fatale PM
She wasn't supposed to see him, hear him, or feel him because he was dead - a ghost. She wasn't supposed to fall in love with him because she was engaged. True love always did have its complications, didn't it?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Supernatural - Chapters: 30 - Words: 50,210 - Reviews: 347 - Favs: 135 - Follows: 82 - Updated: 06-09-12 - Published: 11-09-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2739597
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey everyone! Okay, so this is my new story and I truly hope you enjoy it because it's been really fun to write! If you want a full summary, please check out my homepage because it's posted up there. There's really not too much to say - if you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll definitely get back to you. If you're confused or anything, tell me and I'll do my best to explain. Reviews, as always, would be absolutely wonderful. They really do inspire me so whatever you can write to me, please do so. Enjoy the rest of your Monday, and thank you for you interest!
*Just a note, none of the italicized lines under each chapter belong to me. They are two songs - Falling Over Me by Demi Lovato and See My Side by Jordin Sparks. I'm not making any money by using them. Again, they don't belong to me.
"Who you are is falling over me"
How long had he been here now? He pursed his thin but defined lips together and cocked his head to the side slightly as he walked through the busy streets of Manhattan, ignoring the rushing New Yorkers and the naïve tourists. They were so common to him now, so normal, that he wasn't as distracted by them as he had been. Nor was he so awed by the skyscrapers, the shopping districts that he would pause and stand in the middle of the sidewalk, simply staring at his surroundings. New York was definitely wondrous, but since he lived here for nearly twenty years, he kind of got used to it. Not that he didn't appreciate it, of course, but he appreciated different things now than he had when he first moved here. Like the way the sun would hit the Hudson as it raised into the sky, and the way its rays reflected in windows. He appreciated Central Park, but even more than that, the little and more rare greenery that made up tiny parts of the strip of land that was known for being nearly all city. But now he had time to enjoy everything quietly. And with so much time on his hands, his thoughts began to wander to unexplored territory.
Michael Langdon had been dead for seven years now, but his presence had remained here on earth and he couldn't, for the life of him, reason as to why that was. He was free to go wherever he liked, and if anyone else had been in his position, they most probably would have traveled the world, seen things that humans – the living - weren't allowed to see. But Mike was perfectly fine in New York, in his house that he hadn't seen for the last few months… Okay, so he had visited Alaska and then the Caribbean and then Disneyland. But now he was back and he planned to be back for a while.
"How did I die anyway?" he asked himself into a naturally soft tenor that had a very slight rasp to it. He didn't seem to mind that he was talking to himself without the guise of cell phone. People couldn't hear him, people couldn't see him, and people couldn't feel him. In fact, if they ever ran into Mike, they would simply go through him…
His mind began to put the pictures of his death back together. Mike couldn't remember the exact moment he had died, but he remembered the bright lights of the taxi cab that hailed a sharp right without even checking to see if there were any pedestrians… hadn't even slowed down as he rounded the corner… Mike didn't have a chance. He remembered feeling dazed for a moment before picking himself up and making sure he could walk before he finally realized that though he was capable of standing, his body didn't seem to be. He took it rather hard when it was found out he had died. There was so many things that he still wanted to do…
And yet, he managed to accomplish them as a ghost, an entity, whatever he chose to call himself at any given time. In fact, Mike did more than anyone could have ever expected he would do. He went to his funeral, went to popular New York attractions at one o'clock in the morning when people were sleeping and places were closed, and he just got back from a trip where he visited some of the places he really wanted to go to.
The problem was that his life, death, whatever it was called, was now infinitely lonelier than it had ever been. Mike was witty, sometimes to the point of sarcasm, when he was alive. He didn't go out of his way to make friends, but the friends he did have were incredibly important to him. He had dated a total of four women; one from high school, one from college, and two since moving to New York. He hadn't chosen to settle down because he thought he would have plenty of time to start a family. And the splits hadn't exactly ended well. Now he was permanently thirty-eight with all the time in the world and no one to share it with.
Currently, Mike was standing in the middle of a sidewalk, staring up at a skyscraper. The corners of his lips twitched up as he recalled jumping off of one of these for the first time. The feeling was exhilarating and freeing, and it didn't hurt that hitting the pavement was painless.
Suddenly, and without warning, somebody bumped into him. For a moment, Mike was completely flustered because he had never felt someone touch him before. Hell, he couldn't touch anything, really, except the clothes he wore, anything that had to do with himself. And yet…
"God, why is someone standing in the middle of the damn sidewalk?" a voice murmured underneath her breath as she stepped around him and hurried down the sidewalk.
It had been a woman, and not only had she felt him, she had seen him.
This was… inexplicable. Now, for one more test…
"Sorry!" he called, and his nearly black eyes watched the back of her head intently.
For a moment, it appeared as though nothing was going to happen. However, she raised her hand and brushed his apology off as though she didn't care and she probably didn't before slipping back into her trench coat pocket. She hadn't even turned around, but she had heard him.
It was as though he was a person again. Almost as if Michael Langdon was suddenly alive. The feeling was liberating, and he knew that he couldn't let it slip away. He had to find her again. Normally, he might have considered the notion of finding one person he didn't even get a good look at impossible, but he had encountered a lot of impossibilities that were somehow… possible.
Mike smiled at her retreating figure though she had already disappeared within the masses that filled the sidewalk and continued heading in the other direction.
Lara Darling was still getting used to the City. It was hard for her to catch up to New York's constant bustling, especially when she was so used to the calm that made up Southern California. Talk about going from one extreme to another. She had grown in a quiet little suburb in Orange County, so being in this particular city, living here instead of merely visiting, it was quite intimidating. And don't even get her started on the people. She knew not all New Yorkers were in a rush to get somewhere at the same time, but that seemed to be the case most of the time and every time she would stop in the middle of the sidewalk, people would run into her, and said people had no problem throwing out insults in her direction before returning to their important conversations on their cell phones.
Everything here had a "hip" vibe to it too. That was difficult to get used to because if Lara was one thing, it definitely wasn't trendy. The only brand name piece of clothing she owned were an old pair of Nike shoes, and some of the women she interacted with knew that. Like her fiancé's mother. God, Lara did not like that woman. No matter what she did, Lara could not make any sort of connection with her. Even though she moved from a place she adored out to a city that she wasn't entirely too fond of…
She shook her head. "Positive thoughts, Lara," she murmured to herself as she rounded a corner. "Don't let that witch ruin your interview."
The one good thing she had found about New York as of yet and besides the public transportation was that what she wanted to do with her life was easily accessible here compared to other cities in other states. Arguably, Los Angeles had a few things relating to Lara's cause, but New York was known for it. Lara wanted to be an editor, and what better place to be an editor than in New York City?
As she collected her thoughts and tried to remain focused, she bumped into someone literally standing in the middle of the sidewalk and looking up at the skyscraper. Okay, just because she might have done that when she first arrived at the city didn't mean that it was appropriate to do on an obviously busy street. Didn't he know that something like this was going to occur on such a busy sidewalk?
Lara shook her head, muttering something under her breath and continued on. She hadn't really caught sight of the guy, but he was tall, probably six foot two, and even though he appeared to be somewhere in his thirties, he had a youthful boyish face, dark hair, dark eyes. The guy was definitely attractive, but not very bright it would seem. Oh well. Wasn't that how it always was?
Suddenly, Lara heard someone apologize – say sorry – over the crowd of people. Though she didn't turn to see who it was, she had a feeling it was that mystery man and raised her hand in some kind of acknowledgment. She needed to get her act together if she wanted to ace this interview, and that meant no distractions.