A story I wrote based off of the song “Sparks Fly” by Taylor Swift. I don’t believe in using names—not in this case, at least—so feel free to picture it happening with whoever you please. ~Miella
—-
     There I sat, minding my own business, outside of our local library. Despite the threat of rain, it was a beautiful day—the few clouds somehow didn’t faze me. I read calmly on the sidewalk…until I was interrupted.
     Out of nowhere, he walked up to me and sat down. “What’s up?”           
     I was nervous, when did he care about me ? “Nothing much, you?” I responded. I tried not to show it, but my heart raced out of control. I was a house of cards in the full-on rainstorm that was his every move.           
     “Oh, I just thought I’d come and say hi.”           
     He wanted to say hi to me. My heart did somersaults. But this wasn’t good. I knew all about him. He wasn’t the kind of person my heart should be stopping for. Yes, he was gorgeous. But he was also reckless. If it were someone else with his history, I would be making an excuse to leave, I’d try to run away. I should be sent running now. But it was no use; I knew that I’d just sit inside the doors, waiting for him to chase after me.           
     “Well, hi then,” I managed to say.           
     He laughed. He laughed. “Hi.”           
     This would be the point where he was supposed to leave. All of our other conversations consisted of asking how each other were and then going our separate ways. It would be so easy for him. For him to say “Well, I have a ton of homework…” or “Hey, I was actually on my way to a friend’s house…” or anything else. But he didn’t.           
     I couldn’t keep my mind off him. I was absolutely captivated, like watching the best firework show. He was so close—close enough to touch. I thought of everything going on, how he didn’t leave, how there had to be some reason behind it, how badly I wanted to kiss him. I hoped and prayed that my thoughts didn’t show; that he couldn’t see what I was thinking of.           
     Our casual conversation continued, despite my intuition that he would leave. Suddenly, there was a pitter-patter on the overhanging roof we were sheltered under. Rain.           
     The beautiful summer day’s clouds  had decided to rain on my parade—or so I thought.           
     The rain came down, faster and faster, until after a short time it was pouring.           
     “This is crazy,” I said. “I can’t believe it picked up that fast.”           
     He turned to me, a smile appearing on his face. He stood up. “Come on.” He held out his hand to help me up.           
     I graciously took it, asking what he was doing and feeling a slight blush creep into my cheeks at the smallest touch. Not letting go of my hand, he stepped away from the overhang and into the pouring rain.           
     I pulled my hand out of his grasp. “What are you  thinking?!”           
     He laughed. “Come on out, the water’s fine,” he yelled above the sound of the storm. Closing his eyes, he outstretched his arms and tipped his head back. The rain splashed against his face, arms, chest. With a large amount of cajoling, he managed to convince me to do what I really wanted to do—go out into the rain with him. I took off my shoes and left them with my things, going barefoot.           
     The first raindrop hit me on the top of my head. It was large and fairly painful. After that, though, I paid no attention to the rain. Instead, I watched him as he began to run down the sidewalk, pausing to look back and call me forward with him every couple feet. His witty comments proved what I already believed was true—he knew exactly how attractive he was and how irresistible the pouring rain made him. His dark gray shirt (which wasn’t dark gray to begin with) was soaked by the time I caught up with him.           
     “Took you long enough,” he whispered. I was barely able to make out the words with the downpour in my ears around me, but he grasped my hands and pulled me close.           
     And then he kissed me. Despite the cold of the rain, his lips were warm. It was foreign to me, as was he, but somehow it worked. I felt my every worry and every pain disappear at every caress of his lips. But then he pulled away. For a brief moment, a million different scenarios played in my head—him leaving, saying that it wasn’t right, wishing it didn’t happen. But none of those happened. Instead, he opened his green eyes and smiled before taking my face in his hands and kissing me again.           
     I knew in the back of my mind that this was a bad idea. But I forgot to remind myself of it in the heat of the moment. I mean, he wasn’t exactly the kind of person looking for a life-long relationship with a girl like me. This didn’t make any sense. But that didn’t matter now.     
     He placed one hand on my neck, his fingers touching the ends of my dripping hair. His other hand made its way to my waist, then the small of my back, pulling me in closer.           
     He didn’t stop. This would be when I should have jumped back, when I should have left. But, there was a large difference between should and did. With him, my guard was let down. The guard that I always had up, the walls, everything—they were no good with him. I had waited patiently for this moment, never believing it would come. And yet, here I was, kissing him in the pouring rain.           
     The world around us darkened as the storm became worse. Thunder rolled over our heads and I suddenly knew how this moment would haunt me. But, it didn’t stop me from continuing it.           
     I ran my fingers through his hair as we broke away from our kiss. I watched as lightning flickered wildly in the sky.           
     “Come on,” he said, once again pulling me as he ran down the sidewalk. But this time, he watched me. Without a word, I kept up with him, silently pleading him to keep on keeping his eyes on me. We made our way around the back of the library and he opened the door for me. Just inside the warm shelter, we stood. Once again, I was reminded about how wrong this had to be.          
     Two lefts don’t make a right…but three do. This moment was so wrong, it had to be right. There was no other way to explain it.           
     He held my hand tighter as he led me up the carpeted staircase and into the back of the library—a hallway with many rooms. Sliding into one of them, he hugged me.          
     Seeing the clock on the wall, I stepped away from him. “I have to go,” I said in a Cinderella-like moment. It was time for my ride to come. She was probably looking for me, seeing my bag and shoes left outside the door of the library.          
     He drew me in once more. “Can I see you again?” he whispered, soft and slow. I smiled and nodded in affirmation.          
     His lips curled back, showing his teeth in his signature smile.          
     I saw sparks fly.

A story I wrote based off of the song “Sparks Fly” by Taylor Swift. I don’t believe in using names—not in this case, at least—so feel free to picture it happening with whoever you please. ~Miella

—-

     There I sat, minding my own business, outside of our local library. Despite the threat of rain, it was a beautiful day—the few clouds somehow didn’t faze me. I read calmly on the sidewalk…until I was interrupted.

     Out of nowhere, he walked up to me and sat down. “What’s up?”          

     I was nervous, when did he care about me ? “Nothing much, you?” I responded. I tried not to show it, but my heart raced out of control. I was a house of cards in the full-on rainstorm that was his every move.          

     “Oh, I just thought I’d come and say hi.”          

     He wanted to say hi to me. My heart did somersaults. But this wasn’t good. I knew all about him. He wasn’t the kind of person my heart should be stopping for. Yes, he was gorgeous. But he was also reckless. If it were someone else with his history, I would be making an excuse to leave, I’d try to run away. I should be sent running now. But it was no use; I knew that I’d just sit inside the doors, waiting for him to chase after me.          

     “Well, hi then,” I managed to say.          

     He laughed. He laughed. “Hi.”          

     This would be the point where he was supposed to leave. All of our other conversations consisted of asking how each other were and then going our separate ways. It would be so easy for him. For him to say “Well, I have a ton of homework…” or “Hey, I was actually on my way to a friend’s house…” or anything else. But he didn’t.          

     I couldn’t keep my mind off him. I was absolutely captivated, like watching the best firework show. He was so close—close enough to touch. I thought of everything going on, how he didn’t leave, how there had to be some reason behind it, how badly I wanted to kiss him. I hoped and prayed that my thoughts didn’t show; that he couldn’t see what I was thinking of.          

     Our casual conversation continued, despite my intuition that he would leave. Suddenly, there was a pitter-patter on the overhanging roof we were sheltered under. Rain.          

     The beautiful summer day’s clouds had decided to rain on my parade—or so I thought.          

     The rain came down, faster and faster, until after a short time it was pouring.          

     “This is crazy,” I said. “I can’t believe it picked up that fast.”          

     He turned to me, a smile appearing on his face. He stood up. “Come on.” He held out his hand to help me up.          

     I graciously took it, asking what he was doing and feeling a slight blush creep into my cheeks at the smallest touch. Not letting go of my hand, he stepped away from the overhang and into the pouring rain.          

     I pulled my hand out of his grasp. “What are you thinking?!”          

     He laughed. “Come on out, the water’s fine,” he yelled above the sound of the storm. Closing his eyes, he outstretched his arms and tipped his head back. The rain splashed against his face, arms, chest. With a large amount of cajoling, he managed to convince me to do what I really wanted to do—go out into the rain with him. I took off my shoes and left them with my things, going barefoot.          

     The first raindrop hit me on the top of my head. It was large and fairly painful. After that, though, I paid no attention to the rain. Instead, I watched him as he began to run down the sidewalk, pausing to look back and call me forward with him every couple feet. His witty comments proved what I already believed was true—he knew exactly how attractive he was and how irresistible the pouring rain made him. His dark gray shirt (which wasn’t dark gray to begin with) was soaked by the time I caught up with him.          

     “Took you long enough,” he whispered. I was barely able to make out the words with the downpour in my ears around me, but he grasped my hands and pulled me close.          

     And then he kissed me. Despite the cold of the rain, his lips were warm. It was foreign to me, as was he, but somehow it worked. I felt my every worry and every pain disappear at every caress of his lips. But then he pulled away. For a brief moment, a million different scenarios played in my head—him leaving, saying that it wasn’t right, wishing it didn’t happen. But none of those happened. Instead, he opened his green eyes and smiled before taking my face in his hands and kissing me again.          

     I knew in the back of my mind that this was a bad idea. But I forgot to remind myself of it in the heat of the moment. I mean, he wasn’t exactly the kind of person looking for a life-long relationship with a girl like me. This didn’t make any sense. But that didn’t matter now.     

     He placed one hand on my neck, his fingers touching the ends of my dripping hair. His other hand made its way to my waist, then the small of my back, pulling me in closer.          

     He didn’t stop. This would be when I should have jumped back, when I should have left. But, there was a large difference between should and did. With him, my guard was let down. The guard that I always had up, the walls, everything—they were no good with him. I had waited patiently for this moment, never believing it would come. And yet, here I was, kissing him in the pouring rain.          

     The world around us darkened as the storm became worse. Thunder rolled over our heads and I suddenly knew how this moment would haunt me. But, it didn’t stop me from continuing it.          

     I ran my fingers through his hair as we broke away from our kiss. I watched as lightning flickered wildly in the sky.          

     “Come on,” he said, once again pulling me as he ran down the sidewalk. But this time, he watched me. Without a word, I kept up with him, silently pleading him to keep on keeping his eyes on me. We made our way around the back of the library and he opened the door for me. Just inside the warm shelter, we stood. Once again, I was reminded about how wrong this had to be.          

     Two lefts don’t make a right…but three do. This moment was so wrong, it had to be right. There was no other way to explain it.           

     He held my hand tighter as he led me up the carpeted staircase and into the back of the library—a hallway with many rooms. Sliding into one of them, he hugged me.          

     Seeing the clock on the wall, I stepped away from him. “I have to go,” I said in a Cinderella-like moment. It was time for my ride to come. She was probably looking for me, seeing my bag and shoes left outside the door of the library.          

     He drew me in once more. “Can I see you again?” he whispered, soft and slow. I smiled and nodded in affirmation.          

     His lips curled back, showing his teeth in his signature smile.          

     I saw sparks fly.