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Serendipity, right?
Chance encounters that lead to bliss. It was once a foreign thought to me but is now the keyword describing everything that has happened since I’ve met her, not once but twice.
Everything changed that day when she walked into the little coffee shop, a laptop under her arm, and a stack of books held to her chest like a precious baby. I watched her from across the street, a man smitten in the blink of my hazel eyes, and the “Reaper” in me, the man who kills without question, began to investigate everything.
She made that happen, and it’s romantic in its own fucked up way. I guess you weould say that she’s my soulnate, the one meant for me. But its not fro the reaosns you would think, oh no, it’s much much worse, and I’ve loved every second of it, evne if it did almost kill us both.
