w e s t o s t e r o n e

"Breakfast would be lovely," she giggles, "I know a really good place nearby. I hope you’re fine with some vegan food. But, I reckon there’s some meat on the menu." At the thought of meat, she scrunches up her nose slightly. To the nineteen-year old, meat is a sign of animal cruelty — something she greatly despises. Hopefully, Wes won’t order something that’s going to make her want to vomit her food out. 

Savannah pouts at his explanation, but senses that she shouldn’t do any more probing. "That’s quite unfortunate. I’m sorry that it had to happen at my party. I should definitely make it up to you." she winks, a playful smile on her lips. 

Vegan? That's new, but not entirely shocking. He'd expect someone as innocent looking and sweet as Savannah to have a penchant for adopting stray dogs or be the founder of a charity for animal rights. She looks the part, and this vegan thing is an example of her playing it well. "I wouldn't mind some healthy vegan food right now. To be honest, I think I've had enough take out food this week to last a lifetime. Cooking is really hard with a messed up wrist and a useless roommate."

When she pouts at his lame story, Wes can only describe it with one word: adorable. Again, very unfair. "Well, in that case, my wrist is really painful." he jokes. "There's a lot to make up for. I guess, having breakfast with me is a good start."

♕

Turning back to Wes, she pulled out her earphones and tucked them in the waistband of her yoga pants, letting them dangle from the light blue waistband. A giggle escaped her lips when she noticed her companion smirking. "Your source seems like a lovely person. She must be flattered you actually took her advice," she teased, batting her eyelashes subtly at him. A little flirting wouldn’t hurt anybody, right? 

Licking her lips, Savannah twirled a strand of blond hair from her ponytail and eyed Wes. She let her eyes trail from his face to his muscular legs, saying a silent prayer of thanks to his parents for those good genes. Flirting with Wes Bishop? Sign her right up. 

"Your arm," she pointed out, placing a hand on his arm. Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned. "That wasn’t there last time we were together. What happened?" 

As she batts her eyelashes innocently, twirls her hair, and licks her lips, Wes can't help but groan inwardly. That's not fair. That's really not fair. "Well, I do owe her one. If it weren't for her, I would have never been able to find this place. How do you think she'll feel about some breakfast?" he asks.

Unsurprisingly, Savannah asks about the blue cast wrapped around his right wrist. It's slightly damp due to sweat but, other than a bit dirty, it is completely intact. (Surprise.) "Oh, this. Yeah, it's nothing really." Wes lies. It hurt like a bitch last week. "During the halloween party, I had a drunken run-in with the she-devil. As you can see, it didn't really end well." He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He only prays now that she not ask if he really was beat up by a girl. Now, that's a horrifying thought.

She could feel her heartbeat thumping in her ears as her feet hit the gravel, matching the rhythm of the music playing in her ears. Behind Lana Del Rey’s voice, she could distantly hear the sounds of birds chirping to welcome the new day. The watch wrapped around her wrist indicated that it was just two minutes past eight AM. Savannah had been awake for nearly an hour now. 

Ever since she had relocated to New York from London, it had been part of her daily routine to go on a run around Central Park before she was due to attend class. Back home, there wasn’t much opportunity to do so because of the unpredictable weather, thus the health buff had to resort to the treadmill, much to her dismay. Fortunately, her new home was just right beside Central Park. By now, she had already ran different routes and found her favorite one. 

After the events at last week’s party, Savannah felt the need to relax and go on a run, especially since her antics have landed her a spot on this year’s Hit List. The Brit would often catch people staring at her during class or trying to eavesdrop during her conversations. Was this how fame was like? Perhaps she’d get used to it in due time. 

Today, she opted for a much shorter run: a circle around the Reservoir. Nevertheless, it provided a phenomenal view that Savannah greatly needed. She continued to match the footsteps to the beat of the music, but once she saw a familiar mop of brown hair, she suddenly stopped in her footsteps. 

Wes Bishop. If anything didn’t happen at the party, she would’ve just given him a small smile before proceeding. But, now that it was the first time they’d be seeing each other after a steamy drunken make-out session, Savannah didn’t know quite what to do. She was already cursing the universe for bringing them together while she was on a morning run; there was no inch of make-up on her face (although she had already been told that she didn’t need it) and her blonde hair had been done in a messy ponytail. Not to mention, she probably stank from all the sweat. Why couldn’t they have run into each other before she was about to head off to some movie premiere, instead? That wouldn’t have deflated her ego. 

But before she could turn around and pretend she hadn’t seen him, his green eyes met hers. In that moment, Savannah could feel her heart drop to her stomach.How was it possible that someone could look so good looking while exercising? More importantly, how hasn’t she noticed him until the party?

The corners of her lips tugged into a sweet smile as she waved at him. Walking towards him, she teased, "Fancy running into you here."

In fact, he probably shouldn't be doing any physical activity. A week out of the emergency room and about half an hour out of Graham's surprisingly strong, motherly grasp, Wes is starting to think that this is a bad idea. Then again, he's the king of bad decisions for a reason. Although he has mostly healed from the halloween party mishaps, he still feels a bit off. Maybe that's because his mental health state is not very stable at the moment. It's almost as if the hangover never went away and the headache was replaced with awkward conversations with strangers and random girls handing him their cellphone numbers. (Not that he doesn't appreciate that last bit.) This entire situation is just bizarre. He always thought that if he were to be known around campus then it would be for his track meets, all-over-the-place course choices, or maybe even his above average social life. Transforming from the guy who knows everyone to the guy everyone knows is not something he signed up for. To make matters worse, the bright blue cast on his right wrist does not help him blend in. At all.

However, he must give credit for his sanity to New York City. A glance is hard to come by in this city of excitement, diversity, and just really messed up people, so what more a second one? Being away from campus is like being thrust into a sea of indifferent souls. Wes loves it. This Hit List nonsense, potent in drama, is driving him insane. Obviously to treat the horrible pains that come with being involved in drama, he does the logical thing and pushes back any recollection of the night. (There's barely anything to begin with, so it's not that difficult.)

Throwing his mind back into running, he focuses on the constant thud of his shoes against the pavement. He lets his feet take him towards the Reservoir, probably for a nice cool down activity. A light jog to relax his muscles would be good. After all, he wouldn't want to mess up his legs while trying to heal his broken wrist.

As he turns the corner, he notices a familiar blonde figure a few feet away from him. Donned in workout clothes and with her golden locks tied into a loose ponytail, Savannah Cutberth is the perfect representation of effortless beauty.

He's still hasn't gotten over the fact that the girl approaching him right now is the very same girl he hooked up with at the party. She must have been really drunk or something. That said, he is relieved when she approaches him with a sweet smile and joke instead of a confused, angry expression.

"Well, I heard the view here is great. My source wasn't lying." he replies, smirking.