A/N: This was originally posted on my quizilla account, a while ago, as 'mystery' bandfic/one-shot for Patrick Stump from Fall Out Boy, but I guess here the main character is just a random guy then. [Link on my fictionpress homepage.] I edited a bit, and this my first try writing in a guys POV. I think I did a pretty good job. Tell me what you think. Flames are welcome. :D
I saw her again. She wasn't like the other girls. Cliché I know but true. She didn't wear the latest trends and she didn't dress like any one clique. She was her own person. Another world completely. Instead of magazines or the tiny purses other girls wear, she always had a messenger bag and a book. Today The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri.
I found out that she was in my senior class. And her name. Dahlia Harvey. Different but it fit her. It's sad that I never noticed her before and now that I do...we're graduating. Her to her first choice university and me, touring with my band. I want her to notice me, to talk to her. But that's stupid because of our short time.
I sat on the jungle gym and she sat on a swing of the elementary school down the street of our high school. I felt like a stalker, just sitting here watching her everyday after school. But I don't always watch her. I usually just sit and think as she swings back and forth on the swing, reading and sipping a cup as well.
At the time I usually depart four thirty for band practice, she usually doesn't notice me leaving and continues reading. I jump off the jungle gym, grab my bag and start walking down to my street. But before I could even touch the sidewalk, I heard a slightly unfamiliarly familiar high pitch voice telling me to stop.
I turned around; I saw her stand up, set her book and cup on the swing. "Hi," she smiled slightly.
"Er-hello," I tugged at a couple of strands of my hair then my hat.
"I see you come here a lot..." she trailed off pushing her hair behind her ear, only to shake her head to make her hair fall into her face all over again. She did that a lot.
"I can say the same about you though..." I trailed off with the same tone she left me with.
"Yeah. Where do you go, every four thirty? Every time on the dot you jump from the jungle gym and walk away."
"I sing about pretty girls like you. Or not like you."
"Pretty hard core." She laughed.
"So The Divine Comedy?"
"What can I say? I like the classics."
"Do you want to go somewhere?" I smiled at her.
"I thought you said you had to sing," she smiled but in a condescending tone.
"We can stop there first."
"Dahlia Harvey." She stuck her hand out to me. Her wrists were covered in bracelets. All kinds. Chunky. Thin. Rubber. Wood. Plastic. Nothing matched but hell, what do I know about matching.
"I know..." I smirked at her then taking her hand. "I'm-"
"I know." She smiled a perfect white even smile at me.