Fairy In The Tales

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story of a young couple who find there love through reading each others work. The words inspire them and take there hearts beyond love.

Submitted: October 21, 2011

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Submitted: October 21, 2011



Animals,strangers,favourite fruits. The wandering days shoot past my ebony hair. Looking through the window of my old shack that I discovered in the woods shakesas the wind trys to bite through the plastic covered windows. But yet,I still sit waiting for inspiration... My eyes glanced at the blurry computer screen as I saw a new memeber. The words just spoke so fluently and I felt as if I was him. The email I sent read, " Read my work as I shall do with you, my inspiration has just been found." The moment my life just shone before my eyes as I saw the new golden life of a princess enter my thoughts. Waiting for a reply didn't take long all I did was make a cup of milky tea and then I saw " I have just read your work and your words speak so fluently to me,I felt as if I was you,hope to speak more soon." How did he know? He had just took my words as his own. Is it fate? Or maybe I'm just dreaming.

We spoke for days on end, continuously reading each others work. But then the time came, he asked me if I wanted to meet him sometime,like some sort of date. I quickly said yes and ran into my bedroom looking for something to wear. My endless choice of labels just seemed to take me by suprise but then I found the perfect dress. It said style but not rage. It was perfect,the reds and oranges just swayed down my body as I hung it back on my wardrobe. I ran into the shower and then back out. I once again checked my messages and he said he would meet me at the Cut and Barbers pub which is great because its at the end of my street. Seven pm came and I slipped on my black shoes and ran my fingers through my finely combed hair. This was it,my time had come... Could this be love?

I walked slowly towards the door of the pub and stepped inside, the night was young. I looked around and there he was. The writer that had been inspired by me and the one who spoke my language and felt my words. This was it,I sat down at the table and slowly looked up at him. He stood up and took my coat then placed it on the back of the hand carved chair. He lent back then pulled out some beautiful roses. My heart sank as I remembered the story we wrote together were two hearts become one and the first gift which was never to be the last was roses. I felt like a real Princess, and just as I thought it,he told me he felt like a Prince.

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