Tom Kaulitz— The Graffiti Artist

BOOM!
I slammed to the floor like a sack of potatoes. The silence that fell over the room was eternal. My face burned with sheer embarrassment. I looked up, expecting to see pity, but what I saw was her. Her hands were over her mouth, her eyes were sparkling, and she was making a superhuman effort not to burst out laughing.
—Are you... are you okay? —she asked in that little voice, but a little noise escaped her, a small giggle that set my brain on fire.
The persecution
"Don't laugh, damn it! It's not funny at all!" I roared, jumping to my feet, redder than his cheeks.
She let out a nervous giggle and stepped back.
"I'm not laughing..." she lied, but her eyes betrayed her.
—I told you not to laugh! Come here, damn it! —I yelled, although inside I was dying of nerves because I didn't know how to handle someone so "perfect" making fun of me.
I started following her, and the clever girl took off. We began a ridiculous chase through the house. I was cursing every piece of furniture I bumped into, yelling at her to stop, but the truth is I just wanted to be near her, even if it was to confront her. She ran lightly, as if she were floating, dodging me while stifling laughter, while I, the tough graffiti artist of the area, looked like a dog chasing its own tail.
I never caught up with her. I was too busy trying to hide the fact that, besides being angry, I was completely screwed: I had fallen head over heels in love.

There I was, my fingers stained with Montana paint and the smell of spray paint clinging to my sweatshirt, when my sister dragged me to her fucking shitty meeting. "My boyfriend's best friend is coming with his cousin," she told me. I didn't give a fuck; I just wanted to finish the mural I'd left half-done on the bridge.
But then, I saw her come in.
Love at first sight (in a brute way)
No way, I was petrified. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls my grandma kept locked away, the kind that would break if you touched them with my rough hands. It was freezing cold outside, and the snow had left her... I don't know, perfect. She had a pink tip on her nose and pink cheeks, a striking contrast to her pale skin. She was short, polite, and when she uttered an almost inaudible "hello," I felt my heart leap into my ribs. Her voice was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard in my entire life.
—What are you looking at, you idiot? —I said to myself, trying to regain my tough-guy facade.
The disaster
I tried to swagger past her, acting all high and mighty, walking like the hallway was mine. I wanted to look cool, you know? But fate's a bitch. My boot caught on the filthy carpet and, right in front of the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, I went flying.
BOOM!