Hannah scurried around her room like a mouse, making no sound on the wooden floor. She went to her desk and pulled the drawer out. She stuck her hand in the tiny space, searching for her red notebook. Hannah caught hold of something sharp. She pulled it out with both hands, she couldn't with one for the object was stuck in tight. Hannah pulled it out with all her might and she fell onto the floor, the notebook in her hand. She stood up, hoping that her parents hadn't heard her tiny figure hit the floor. She would be in more trouble, they would ground her for a month at the least.
She turned toward the window, her diary clutched to her chest. Hannah pulled her feet over the sill and jumped. Her feet landed flat on the ground. After she made it alive she used her legs to push off the ground. Hannah flung forward, her head pointed to her destination. Her eyes bore ahead, her eyes never watching her feet as she ran. Hannah didn't need to, she was the most un-clumsy, sixteen year old girl in town.
A turn came up ahead and she made it effortlessly. Running came easy to her, it was as if she was born it do it. Her feet just right, not to big or not to small. Her legs as tall as skyscrapers. She was perfect. Hannah turned again and again, not waisting a second. Panting, she came to a stop. She opened her notebook and flipped it to the last page. She held the picture up to the building before her. It looked as if it had a hundred stories, just as the drawing in her book. This was definately his.
She walked toward the building, slamming the door behind her. The inside was as astonishing as the outside. Glass mirrors covered the walls, an awestruck Hannah stared back at her. There was a sitting area in the corner, the table and couches as clean as the mirrors. No smudge prints or marks of windex. A black elevator sat on the far wall. It was the only thing that looked worn and old. She skipped toward the elevator, a huge grin spread across her lower face.
Hannah knocked loudly on the door labeled A. How did she know this was his? Well she just knew. It was like he was pulling her, a string attached around her mid-waist. After she had finished her last knock the door swung open.
There he stood. He had black as the night sky hair and grey eyes. Her head was tilted to look at him so he had to be taller than her. If she was 5'6 then he was about 5'10? His perfect mouth opened to speak and a husky voice asked, "Hannah?"
With that sudden remark she felt a flurry of happiness.
Hannah was deeply in love.