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Can’t Get Out Of Love

By @Amanda_Writes27

Train Doors

“Hold the door!” he yells slipping through the closing train door. “Never mind then.” he whispers as he catches his breath. He grabs the handle above a girls seat as the train starts to move. The girl is too focused into her book to notice that someone is in front of her, and that everyone is staring at him. The guy bends down to tilt his head to see what she is reading. That’s when she notices someone not just in front of her, but face in front of her book. She closes her book between her finger to keep her page and sets it on her lap.

” You gotta a thing for reading the cover of girl’s books or do you only do this to me?” she asks. He stands upright again and sighs. He realizes that she doesn’t know who he is.

“You new to LA?”

“So what if I am?”

“It’s just weird that you don’t rec-” he cuts himself off so she doesn’t know who he is” It’s just weird. I never see girls read on the train.”

“It’s weird to see guys so curious to see what a girl is reading.”

“Fair” he says putting his hands up.

The train comes to a turn and before he falls he grabs the handle again. He exhales in relief. ” Are you okay?” she asks with a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m just fine. Glad i could make you laugh a bit.” Silence filled the cart. The train moved for another few seconds before it came to a stop. It was his stop but he was just staring at her beauty. Her orange curls, brown-green eyes. Her thin, black, and round glasses and the few freckles they hid. He needed to get off before the doors closed but he couldn’t move. Looking at her reading her book. Thinking about how she didn’t know who he was.

He herd the doors start to close and he ran through the doors that almost closed on him. This time she noticed that he had left and right as the doors closed she smiled and waved to him. The train left and he was standing there hoping it would go the other way back to him.

But it never did.

He leaves the station with hands in his coat pocket and head down. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, he wanted to see her again. Would he see her again later today on his way home? Would he see her again tomorrow? Would he ever see her again?

The more he thought about her the more he remembered her face. Like he’s seen it before, like deja-vu. When he got to the door of the music studio, he looked at his reflection, sighed, and went in.

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