Just a little something I wrote. It’s not very good, but whatever 😛

The soft notes of the guitar hang in the air as Saphira sat on the wall, gently stroking the instrument with her tired fingers. A ring decorated her hand loosely, the pretending-to-be-gold gleaming slightly in the sunshine. Her dark hair, some of it hidden under a black trilby hat, swung gently with every strum on the guitar, its glossy brown highlights standing out against her pale skin. Her lithe figure was curved around the guitar, so much so that she was in danger of falling off the wall. She didn’t, however, and held her balance perfectly throughout the rest of the song. By the end of it, she had an audience. Noticing there were people watching, she shifted uneasily, and tipped her hat, blushing. Jumping down from the wall, she slung the guitar over her back, and, keeping her head down, began to walk away.
“Hey Saph.” She heard a voice say softly, by her ear. She jumped.
“What do you want, Laker?” She said.
“Not on first name terms anymore, eh?” He said, his voice full of apology.
“Laker, I don’t want to talk to you. Not now, not ever.” She said tiredly.
“That’s not what you said..” he was cut off by a sharp slap to the face.
“Don’t even try, asshole.” She said, sharply.
“Look, I’m sorry, I came here to apologize.” He pleaded.
“You’re doing a great job.” She said, turning round, and trying to walk away.
“Saph!” He said, raising his voice, and taking hold of her arm.
“What do you want from me?” She said, the frustration seeping into her voice.
“I want you back.” He said, softly, tears filling his eyes. She half-laughed, pulling her arm out of his grip.
“You should’ve thought of that before you got involved with her.” She said, venom filling her.
“So your best friend doesn’t have a name anymore, either.” He said, sadly.
“I don’t have a best friend.” She said, and walked away.
Tom Laker was left in the street, overwhelmed with guilt. He had to find a way to make it up to her. All the while, Saphira continued making her hasty departure from the scene, feeling sick and shaky. This was not how it was meant to be, she found herself thinking. Shaking her head, she entered the small cafe, its homely decor bringing her instant comfort.
“Hot chocolate?” She said, when the waitress approached her. The waitress smiled warmly, and immediately brought her one. Pulling up an extra chair, the waitress sat at Saphira’s table, wordlessly telling her she’d be there.
“Oh, Fran.” Murmured Saphira, putting her head in her hands.
“Tom?” said Fran, biting her lip.
“Yes, Tom. The moron thinks he can win me over with a simple apology. He doesn’t understand how much it hurt.” Whispered Saphira, trembling slightly as she took a sip of her drink.
“That moron makes me sick.” Said Fran, supportively. “You’re better off without him.”
“I hope you’re right.” Sighed Saphira.
“Hey, there’s a place come up for busking in here tonight…. Want to?” Offered Fran, hoping Saphira would cheer up at the prospect of performing.
“Yeah, okay.” She nodded, frowning.
“I’m supposed to be working.” Said Fran, sheepishly. Saphira smiled slightly.
“Thanks.” She said, and nodded as Fran stood up. A tear rolled gently down her cheek once she was alone again, but she wiped it away hurriedly. She couldn’t afford to get emotional, she had things to do.
Yes, things to do. Concentrate on that, Saphira, she told herself, blinking back the tears. Concentrate on that.


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