She sat down, crossed her legs, and propped her head on her hand. If these people didn’t hurry up she was gonna do something she regretted. The blood pounded in her head and she felt her hand itching to pull out the gun that was in her waistband. Pushing this urge down, she glanced at the guy selling the tickets. He had tan skin with blue eyes, and she admired from afar. She sighed. If only she had time to talk to him, she would’ve in a heartbeat. Glancing at the clock she tried to remember how long she’d been sitting there. 
She looked around, searching for him. Where was he? It was already past 6:00 and there was no sign of him. She really had no recollection of exactly who she was looking for, all she knew was that he should’ve been there by 6:00 p.m. Then she saw him. His head was dipped as he walked by her and he wore a gray sweatshirt, black Nike sweatpants, and Roshis. His face was hidden, but she suddenly felt trembly when she saw him. She stood quickly and fell in line behind him, watching him carefully.
He stepped into the New York winter snow and stopped at an ATM that was next to the movie theatre. She pulled her tan coat closer to her and she silently stepped forward, closer to him. She felt an eerie energy between them. The day seemed to be still and she could see the white cloud of breath coming from his mouth. She was so close she could smell his Dark Rebel by John Varvatos and she was stricken by.. Something. He turned suddenly, and she was face to face with him.
There was one moment, one moment where she was lost in his eyes. She saw herself in them. Windblown hair, smudged eyeliner, and tears in her eyes. Then that moment was broken. Broken by a gunshot. She stumbled away, grasping at her stomach. Somehow she hailed a cab and she found herself sitting motionless in the backseat. Her hand was ice cold against her stomach and she moved it shakily.
There was the gun, still hot. It burned her skin but she knew she deserved it. It left an imprint on her, but she didn’t care. So she drove away, disappearing into the bustle of New York, leaving a man who no longer breathed and who had left a permanent crimson stain on the sidewalk in front of an ATM.