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Teen Ink
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She's been at that orphanage as long as she could remember. A new boy comes and sees her crying. Asking her why, she shrugs defesivley. 'I cry just 'cause," she said. He wonders why and vows to discover the reason.
((Course you can, Rosie! You want guy or girl?))
((I'll take the guy. You probably have ideas for the girl's background))
Emma was leaning against the wall in the hall, her head against it. Her dark startlingly grey eyes were closed, but tears still slipped out of them. Every once in a while, she reached a pale, slender hand up to wipe them away and to put a piece of curly black hair behind her ear.
Louis wandered along the hallway, bag slung over his shoulder. His stormy blue eyes were focused on the door of the office, biding his time until whoever was in charge was distracted, then he would make a run for it. He already hated it here and he wasn't planning to stick around much longer.
Slowly, she sank down to the floor, choking slightly on her tears. Why? Why? This place was just so bad, so terrible. Why? Why?
Louis wasn't looking where he was going and tripped over a girl in the corridor. He looked down briefly to apologise and saw that she was crying. "Hey, who died?" he asked, smirking.
Emma quickly swiped at her eyes and tossed her hair back, glaring up at him defiantly as she crossed her arms. "I cry just 'cause."
"I can see why your parents didn't want you of you're this miserable," Louis replied. He didn't intend to be cruel, but he was impatient to get out of the orphanage.
She stared at him, and suddenly, a mainiacal laugh shook her slight frame. "Oh, that's too good! Tell me something I don't know about people I never met."
He sighed and slid down the wall next to her. "If you're going to survive in life, you have to realise that people suck," he told her. "So if your parents suck, so what? Whose don't?"
"Go away." Emma turned away from him stubbornly. "This is my only quiet time, and I don't need you intruding it!"
Louis chuckled and slid closer, just to annoy her. "So, fancy telling me the real reason you're crying?" he asked.
He slid even closer, putting an arm around we shoulders. "Come on, I hate to see a pretty girl upset," he murmured. "I'll be gone in ten minutes, what's the harm in telling me?"
“Then why don’t you go off and find some pretty girl who’s upset and comfort her? No pretty girl’s here.” She shoved his arm off and slid further away again.
Louis was undettered. "Come on, you're plenty pretty enough for me," he argued. "And I don't see anyone else crying in a corridor now, do you?"