Stormy Hearts
Mia stormed out of a building, phone in hand, her frustration clear in every step she took. She looked at her phone in anger.
“What the [ __ ]! What? You listen to me! I don’t care about you! Don’t ever call me again! [ __ ] out!” she yelled, ending the call and throwing her phone into her bag.
Just then, a voice cut through the air. “Hey, are you all right?”
Mia whipped around to see a young man standing there, concern in his eyes. “Do you think this is all right? What the [ __ ] is all right? Nothing is all right!” she snapped.
There was a long pause.
“Come on,” the man said quietly.
After a tense moment, Mia softened, realizing her outburst wasn’t helping anything. “Sorry I lashed out at you.”
The man waved it off. “It’s okay.”
“You okay?” he asked again, this time softer.
“Yeah, that’s okay. I didn’t mean to,” Mia said, her tone less harsh now.
As they stood there in the awkward quiet, the man cleared his throat. “Excuse me, um… can I use your phone? Mine is, uh…”
Mia shook her head. “No, I don’t have one. I mean, I don’t have it right now.”
“Same thing happened to me yesterday,” he said with a small laugh. “Your heel broke? I gave mine to get repaired.”
“Actually, you can go there too,” he offered. “Service center is right around the corner.”
“Okay. Yeah, thanks,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sorry again.”
“No worries,” he responded.
Mia began to walk away but yelped in pain. “Ow!”
The man quickly asked, “Are you bleeding?”
Mia looked down. “I don’t know… Yep, yep.” She winced as she inspected her foot.
Without hesitation, the man reached into his pocket. “Take this,” he said, handing her a bandage.
“You just carry that around?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Yesterday was a bad day,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“Thanks,” she muttered as she applied the bandage. “How do you girls walk in these?” the man asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
Mia couldn’t help but laugh. “Beyond my understanding,” she admitted. “First time I wore them… probably the last.”
They shared a moment of lightheartedness, exchanging stories about mishaps. He told her about his burnt sneakers, and Mia found herself smiling.
“You’re a filmmaker or photographer?” she asked after his comment about a shoot.
“Yeah, photographer,” he replied.
Their strange and unexpected connection seemed almost fated. The more they talked, the more Mia relaxed, her earlier frustration easing into laughter. They continued walking, sharing stories about their accident-prone lives.
“That should be on a t-shirt—‘Accident Prone Human,’” Mia joked.
“Right?” he laughed. “I’d get in trouble a lot as a kid. Fell off bikes, got hit by cricket balls… After a few burns, I decided to stay away from firecrackers.”
Mia grinned. “I get it. I always felt like something was wrong with me too. Got food poisoning at a family gathering once—ended up in the hospital for two weeks.”
The man’s face turned serious for a moment. “Two weeks?”
“Yeah,” Mia nodded. “How’d you know?”
He looked at her with a sudden intensity. “This is freaking me out,” he muttered.
“Stop staring at me,” Mia said, uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” he responded quickly, looking away.
After a few moments of silence, he broke the tension. “Where did you grow up?”
“Here,” Mia replied. “I’m from this area. You?”
“Should’ve said Delhi,” he teased. “When’s your birthday?”
Mia hesitated but answered, “January 22. Aquarius.”
“Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee,” Mia answered with a smile.
“Morning or night person?”
“Night. I usually wake up at noon,” Mia admitted with a laugh.
“You’re a mystery,” he said with a smirk.
Finally, they reached the corner. “So, can you show me the way to the service center?”
“Sure,” he said, but as they started walking again, something odd happened. He reached out and grabbed her hand for a brief moment.
“I saw it in a movie,” he quickly explained, pulling his hand back. “Sorry, it was an impulse.”
Mia didn’t know how to respond. She just nodded. “It’s okay.”
He glanced at her and asked, “If I may ask… who was that poor guy you were lashing out at earlier?”
Mia sighed deeply. “That’s a story for another time.”