[ y o u c o u l d c h a n g e i t a l l ]

Love a Little ; Love a Lot

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The rain continued to pour overhead, and you had begun to assume that it was just going to follow you everywhere. It was almost comical, if you thought about it enough. The idea of a rain cloud stalking someone everywhere they went was something exclusive to Saturday morning cartoons. However, this was not a small little raincloud hovering overhead, this was a fullblown storm.

You gave your cousin a nod and the slightest of smiles before she turned away. She would probably be going to the mall, while you would be hitting up the local grocery store.

As you walked down the street, you began to notice how you must look to most people. Your hair was pulled up into a shoddy bun, you were dressed in sweatpants and an over-sized t-shirt. You were even wearing slippers, for god's sakes. Of course, New York City was a huge place, but you stood out because you could have been a completely normal looking girl otherwise.

You kept your head down, focusing on the directions that your cousin had given you. Three blocks down, can't miss it. Those words became your mantra, one that kept you on track. Your eyes, a now dulled [eye colour], occasionally darted upwards to look at the signs on the street, but for the most part you kept your gaze downwards.

Upon reaching the store, you noticed all of two things. One, it was completely packed with people. Two, there was television screen suspended in air, with a news anchor prattling on and on about how the storm that had been hovering over a certain area of NYC was slowly moving. Researchers were flocking to the storm to see what would be causing it to move now, of all times.

You chewed on your lip, nervously, causing a faint trickle of blood to run down your face. That was really, really bad. It meant that there was only a small amount of time left before they realized that one single person was the fixed center of the storm. That person was obviously you.

You pushed your way through the crowd, a basket in hand for the groceries. The selection was normal. Some veggies, some fruits, some snacks. You gave one last look around the store, (no small feat, considering that it was full too the brim with people) before heading over to the checkout counter.

You tried to answer the clerk's questions as curtly as possible. Your voice was raspy and low from not being used, and you saw the clerk (An olive-blooded troll) raise her eyebrows. You bit your lip and handed her your credit card. She swiped it through the register, humming a popular tune.

"You should get this renewed, sweetie. It'll expire in two weeks." The troll fixed you with steady green eyes, and you tapped your fingers on the side of the checkout counter uneasily, nodding slightly to let her know that you had heard.

You exited the store, holding your groceries in each hand. They weren't even that heavy, but you hadn't been doing much physical excersize in the last few monthes, and so they wore your arms out easily. The rain continued to beat down on the streets, and you were annoyed that you had neglected to bring an umbrella. Not that it would've done you much good, as you had to have two hands ready to hold your bags.

Upon reaching the lobby of your apartment building, you set your bags down on one of the nearby sofas, to mess with your hair. It was a rather nice apartment building, to be honest. Your cousin managed to afford it with her computer programming job. It payed well, and she could work from the apartment.

To your horror, you heard someone calling your name. It was Mrs Fisher, the nosy neighbour from down your hall. Your face paled, and you picked up your bags. You really weren't that fit, but you managed to sprint down the lobby to the elevators.

Oh thank god, there was one on this floor. However, it seemed to be occupied by a boy, a troll, who was swearing as he attempted to move boxes into the elevator. You called out a plea for him to wait, as you could see the elevator was about to close.

The troll looked up and around, to see you charging for the elevator. He rolled his eyes, as if he couldn't believe his awful luck, but stuck his foot out to block the elevator door all the same. You breathed out a sigh of relief, and slid into the elevator, your heart beating rapidly.

You leaned over to press your floor number, but found it was already lit up. You glanced upwards at the troll boy, and began to jab at the button that sped up the process of closing the elevator doors.

You stopped as soon as you were convinced that the crazy old lady wasn't going to be able to get at you. Only then did you really stop and look at your savior. He was wearing really, really strange glasses. The shades were two different colours; one blue and one red. He looked just as dishevelled as you, with hair that obviously hadn't seen a comb in days.

Only after this did you become aware that he was carting two large cardboard boxes with him. You raised an eyebrow. Was he moving in? If so, he would be the first in monthes. It was a fairly large apartment building, but people had begun to move away, due to the lack of light. You finally worked up the courage to address him directly. "Uhmm, you aren't moving in, are you?"

He nodded, as if taking his time with verbally responding. "Yeth, 4H."

Your eyes lit up in surprise. He would be living down the hall from you. "Oh. That's nice. I'm in 4B." You gave him the faintest of smiles, and refocused on what he was carrying. A bunch of wires were hanging out of the box, so it was probably electronics of some sort. You felt it best not to ask.

The elevator dinged, signalling to you both that it was time to exit. You stepped out, holding your foot against the space so that the guy could move past as well. He staggered down the hall, and you followed him, seeing as your apartment was nearly at the end.

You reached for his door to hold it open, and his brushed against you slightly. You gave a small screech, perfectly aware of what would happen to him, now that he had touched you. This fairly nice guy would probably get pneumonia or swine flu or something. You stammered an apology, moving backwards.

Finally, you turned tail and jogged to your room. Your face felt on fire. 'Smooth moves, spazz.' You fiddled with your door, turning the keys frantically until you were let in. Your cousin wasn't home yet, so you had the house to yourself for a bit. You tossed the groceries onto the counter, and sulked to your room.

God, you felt absolutely awful, but there wasn't much else you could do at this point.