"Get in, sweetheart."



Without even glancing at him, she continued her stomping forward- her face still red from anger.



"You do know that you are going towards the opposite way and your shoes don't match." He said, trying not to laugh.



She stopped like someone had put an invisible door in front of her. Breathing deeply, she looked down and clutched her teeth in annoyance. Without helping himself, he chuckled.



"They don't look bad." He said and grinned in satisfaction when she finally looked at him even if it was just to glare daggers.



"Dean, what do you want from me?"



He leaned back in the seat and sighed. What did he want from her? Wasn't it obvious enough what he wanted? He wanted to kiss her anytime he could, he wanted to hold her, pamper her, spoil her, make her laugh, and make her so angry that she would attack him. He wanted to wake up next to her every day and kis



She was standing in the park. The image felt so real and yet she knew she wasn't there. Looking down on her hands, they almost felt transparent in the evening sun which was passing its brightness right through her.



Familiar laughs made her freeze for a second before she slowly turned to see the memory chasing past her. The two children holding hand felt so out of place.



She couldn't breathe.



She didn't know she still had this memory.



She recognized them almost immediately. How could she not? Dean looked older from his eight-year-old self and she looked younger compare to her four-year-old. She could still remember the touch of his hand as he had held it tightly since her mother had told him to take care of her.



She watched in awe as he patiently walked, matching the pace of her younger version as she kept falling and tripping over nothing. Every now and then brushing her

If someone asked him when exactly he fell in love with Sara O'Brian, he wouldn't have an answer for he was already in love with her before he even knew what it was. He was almost four when he had seen her. He still remembered the first time. She was born with a hole in her heart. Watching her from the glass window, he had recognized her small eyes in those many new born. When he held her, the smile she gave him was still engraved in his mind and yet he never was able to remember anything else from those times- not what his parents looked like or his teachers or even himself.



His every memory was imprinted by her face from that moment. He had found the meaning of love when he was twelve. It was just some poet who had described love in one of his mother's literature books. And before he knew it, middle school ended. And each passing year had made him rougher, quieter and crueler. The re

"Get in, sweetheart."



Without even glancing at him, she continued her stomping forward- her face still red from anger.



"You do know that you are going towards the opposite way and your shoes don't match." He said, trying not to laugh.



She stopped like someone had put an invisible door in front of her. Breathing deeply, she looked down and clutched her teeth in annoyance. Without helping himself, he chuckled.



"They don't look bad." He said and grinned in satisfaction when she finally looked at him even if it was just to glare daggers.



"Dean, what do you want from me?"



He leaned back in the seat and sighed. What did he want from her? Wasn't it obvious enough what he wanted? He wanted to kiss her anytime he could, he wanted to hold her, pamper her, spoil her, make her laugh, and make her so angry that she would attack him. He wanted to wake up next to her every day and kiss her good morning and goodnight and goodbyes. He wanted to hear her tell him she loved him, she bel

Chapter # 10.2