London Times

Dylan pulled his black hood up over his face. His headphones blared Puddle of Mudd, and he puffed smoke out of his mouth in clouds. I should really stop smoking... he though to himself. He stuck the fag back in his mouth anyway.

Sometimes, Dylan thought he was placed in the wrong country. He acted more American than British, and besides, his parents fucking hated him. But hell, he hated them back. He'd been standing out in the rain for over three hours now. Waiting. God only knows what for. The air was thick with smoke, both from him and simply from the London air. This fucking sucks.

He threw his butt on the ground, like it was a toothpick. Something he couldn't be bothered with anymore. Theory of a Deadman came on his IPod. He turned the volume up even louder than it already was. He stared walking back towards his run down house. His brother should be asleep when he sneaks back in. Hopefully. Dylan decides to go home the long way. He cuts through the park.

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Rebecca was afraid of getting raped. Her mom warned her, don't EVER go out alone, especially at night. So what does she do? She runs. She couldn't help it really. Home was bloody hell. There wasn't really anywhere else to go anyway. So she would go swing. She listened to Chopin and kicked her feet back and forth. Faster. Harder. Higher.

Tomorrow meant another ballet lesson, another piano recital, another day making mommy and daddy proud. Right now, she just listened to the music and wished away her entire world. She wished she had a brother or a sister, someone else her parents could pay attention to. All she wanted was a little bit of privacy, just once. Instead, she had to run away to find it. Luckily, it was very late (or early depending on how you look at it.) She could swing for another hour and then go home. No one would be the wiser.

That is, if she didn't get raped. Rebecca figured she read too many horror novels, but they were an escape from her life. She was surprised there wasn't anyone outside actually, considering it was London. She tried to put the bad thoughts out of her head and just go completely numb for a little while longer. Chopin continued on an endless stream, note after note. She let herself go with the music.

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Dylan saw her from across the park. She had a purple scarf and a black wool cap. She didn't even seem to notice the rain. Her mittened hands held firmly to the swing. He turned his IPod down just a little, so as he got closer he would be able to hear if she said anything. She didn't even move.

He pushed his hood back and took a seat on a swing next one away from her. She still hadn't noticed him yet. He took out another fag and lite it, blowing out smoke in the rain.
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Rebecca hadn't noticed anyone join her on the swings until after he started smoking. Her allergies kicked in, and she started coughing. Her headphones fell out in the process. "Why do you have to smoke those things?" She asked him without even looking his way.

"Why do you always listen to bloody orchestra music? Shouldn't you hate it by now?" Dylan grinned at her, making his lip piercing turn sideways.

"It's good music," she said softly. "And you didn't answer the question. You're going to get cancer."

"Worried about me?" He didn't realize how much so she was. Neither of them liked being in their houses. If their parents knew they were talking, let alone seeing each other like they were, there would be hell to pay. Rebecca finally turned and looked at him.

"You shouldn't let me sit here alone without you, you know." She kept whispering, as if someone else would hear her. No one had ever disrupted them before. She was just a little cold and a little worried, she told herself. I'm not scared..

"You should stop buying into your mother's bullocks. No one's going to hurt you out here." He moved to the swing closer to you. "Do you wanna go come soon?"

"No... but I should."

"Want me to walk you?"

"If you don't mind.. It would mean a lot to me." Dylan always told her not to worry, but she still did anyway. She grew up paranoid, he was the most outlandish thing she dared let into her life.

"So, what's your music tonight? Beethoven?"

"Chopin." She smiled once she said her favorite composers name. "and it's not bad music. You just haven't adjusted to it yet." Dylan took one of her headphones and put it in his ear. He grabbed her hand too. They didn't live anywhere near each other, but he would always walk her home.

"It's not complete rubbish. I guess."

They walked hand in hand for a while. Once they were nearing her home, he dared to disrupt their peace. "Why do you keep seeing me? You know I'm a lost cause don't you?"

Rebecca leaned forward towards him just a little, on her tip toes, so that their noses almost touched. "You aren't a lost cause to me; you're everything." She gently pressed her lips to his, breathing in his smokey breath. She didn't care if she got second hand cancer from him, as long as she got him, all of him.

Dylan kissed her back, just as gently. These were the moments he lived for. He might act like a bad ass, but inside, he was mushy all over for her. That's all that mattered anymore.