It's my first post on FictionPress. If there's anyone reading, give me your opinion on this.


You look up just in time to see her burst through the door. Your eyes meet hers and you can tell that something has just happened. You don't know what it is, but you'll be damned if this isn't what they talk about in movies. Something like love at first sight.

Slowly, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is a mess. She's been running; it's obvious. And yet, she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen.

There's this smile on her face, a genuine smile that makes you want to smile back. And you know that from now on you'll do anything to have that smile directed at you. You want to be the only one looking into those pretty eyes. For a mere second you wonder what her name is, and then you decide that any name would suit her anyway.

She's dressed in simple clothes but you're certain she'd look dashing in anything—from a trash bag to a fancy dress.

She walks right up to you and you realize it might be a dream. It's the beginning of something. Something that will turn out to be great. You can feel it in your bones, as clearly as you can feel your heartbeat. How you managed to live this long without her in your life remains a mystery to you. She's like oxygen.

Suddenly, she's close enough for you to smell her fragrance and you're afraid you might faint if she comes any closer. It's jasmine, you think, but you're no expert. You just know that you love it already. She couldn't be any more perfect.

The sound of her voice reaches your ears, and it's as smooth as silk. You're not surprised. It fits with her beauty. She's talking to you, you realize, and she has a little smirk that proves that she knows you haven't been listening to a single word. It doesn't matter. You know you'll have an eternity to make up for that.


"You" has no gender. I wanted to have as many people as possible to be able to identify themselves to "You".

BloodInTheFields