Too Blind To See {One Direction}

His' POV

I was still in the city, walking around without a target. I didn't know where to go, what to do, who to talk with.

I shouldn't have gone to that restaurant with my friends, and Her. I knew she would be there. I still went, though. It's weird. I knew I would feel pain, get hurt, if I would see Her with the Other. So, if I knew, why did I go? Don't ask me! It would be logical to ask me, but I can't give you an answer.

It's like I'm addicted to Her. Not by touching Her. No. Just seeing Her.

Seeing Her smile, making everyone smile.

Seeing Her brown eyes twinkle, like they were cups of hot chocolate with glinstering sugar dancing in them.

Seeing Her movements, gently and focused on what she wants

Seeing how She cares about her friends, my friends either.

Seeing Her be Herself and no-one else because She is perfect the way She is, whatever someone says.

I shouldn't like those things, not anymore. I should stay away from Her. Not only for my own good, because I'm just getting hurt to see Her the way she lives right now.

I know I also had to do it for Her own good. But as I said, I'm addicted to the way She is. Maybe I need to go to rehab (but I said no, no, no).

Uh-oh. I'm turning crazy! I'm thinking about something serieus, rehab, and than I just HAVE to think about a song, don't I? Hell yeah, I do. Now I'm going in discussion with myself! Could this get any worse?!

Appearantly not. Wanna know why? Because just that moment when I was in a discussion with myself, I bumbed into a small billbord standing outside an ice cream saloon.

I read the billbord and thought by myself that ice cream probably wouldn't be a bad idea. I walked into the shop without noticing the name of the ice cream saloon and without paying the billbord anymore attention.

It was a small but kosy ice cream saloon. It looked like those old saloons which you always find nannies with their children in those old fashion movies. I loved it immediately. There were standing small tables with comfy red chairs around them and underneath the windows you could sit at couches.

I walked up to the bar and looked at the people in the saloon. There weren't many. Just a woman with her little cat or another kind of animal in her bag... An old man probably with his grandchildren and a group of five or six teenagers laughing about a joke, they were probably around the age of fourteen.

I waited at a barstool as a girl about eightteen walked up to me to help me. She was pretty, no doubt. She had red hair, definitely painted but it fit her well, small brown eyes with long lashes, a cute smile with straight, snow-white teeth and a nice figure. Her name was Aerielle. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. But I don't want her.

She smiled to me, I gave her a short smile, well I tried to, it probably looked like an evil smirk again. Her face changed slightly. I could see her smile change from kind and real to polite and fake. She than started talking in a sweet voice which totally fit her.

'Good morning, sir. Welcome in "Mary's Lemon Saloon", how may I help you??'

I froze. Right there in an ice cream saloon, I froze on my spot. I couldn't say anything. I just sat there and stared into her small brown eyes.

Did she just say "Mary's Lemon Saloon"?

She couldn't be saying that, that's just... Just... That's just unfair. Why does THIS ice cream shop needs to be called after Her favorite flavor? Tell me please.