Runaway Love There he was. Just standing by his locker; and here I was, standing by mine. Ripped jeans, brown cork wedges and a floral floaty blouse: my usual "safe" outfit. Compared to Others, I always felt out of place - not the usual fashionista you expect of a seventeen year old girl. I simply stand,still as the night sky, staring at his mesmerising features: dirty blonde hair, flopped across his face, hiding his piercing green eyes. His sense of style typical for a soft rocker, alongside the simplicity of scuffed converses - obviously a favourite of his considering the frayed laces and worn out soles. He was every girls dream (cute and cheeky grin included) definitely too good to be true, he was real though. He was real to me. He was simply visible to those around us. What do you think? Should I carry it on?