BLOOM • awsten knight

1

JANUARY 2018

Awsten browses slowly, walking the aisles of Target, trying to keep his eyes downcast for the most part; he isn't in the mood to attract too much attention to himself, though the purple hair usually does enough of that for him.

He lets out a sigh, running a hand over his face, before reaching for his phone to check the time.

Glancing down at the screen, he almost cringes, as the time reads 11:11am.

Awsten stares at the numbers for a moment longer, allowing his mind to wonder whether it may mean something, or no. He almost laughs at himself, thinking about his own song that's named after the time stamp, before his thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sound of a cereal box hitting the floor.

"Fuck," a voice mumbles, clearly not quietly enough, as Awsten overhears.

His eyes search naturally for the source, and he looks up to see a girl, seemingly around his age, maybe of couple years younger.

She lets out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, as if in attempts to compose herself.

Awsten allows himself to watch her for a moment, as she picks up the cereal box, and puts it back on the shelf. He can tell she's frustrated, as she runs a hand through her hair, which increases Awsten's heart rate.

He can't help thinking about how beautiful she is.

A small groan escapes her mouth as her phone begins to ring, and she practically rips out her head phones to answer it, seemingly unhappy about having to do so.

Awsten feels the urge to move closer, thinking he may be able to overhear her phone call without being too obvious; he thinks that maybe, he could strike up a conversation once she's done, possibly ask her what's wrong, or if she's okay.

He thinks better of it, but that doesn't stop questions about her clouding his mind: he wonders what he middle name is, though, maybe her first name would be a better start.

"Mum, I know! But seriously, I'm fine."

A breath catches in Awsten's throat as her voice catches his attention; her accent is prominent and it doesn't take him any longer than a second to realise that she's British.

He wonders what she's talking to her mother about, because whatever it is, he doesn't think she seems fine at all.

"Yes, I'll call if I need anything," her voice has a sarcastic twinge, and Awsten notices a small eye roll, as the phone call appears to be coming to an end. "Mhm, love you too."

He observes carefully as she hangs up the phone and shoves it in her pocket; she just stands there for a moment, staring aimlessly, before she brings her hands up to her face and rubs her eyes, taking a breath.

Awsten feels like his heart drops to the floor, and all he wants to know is why this angel, standing just few feet ahead of him, is so sad; he doesn't want her to be sad, he feels like that's the last thing he wants.

Despite her gloomy demeanour, Awsten thinks she still seems so innocent and pure, yet fragile; he wants to know why.

And despite the slight bitter twist that he overhears in her voice, he just knows that there's a warm kindness behind her facade; he wants to know why.