Hi! ‘ve worked on this for quite some time. Hope it turns out alright.

Summary: I began my walk home as usual. As I stood there admiring the scenery before me, I didn't realize the shadow creeping up on me until I sensed a shifting in the air and turned sharply. It was you.

Enjoy!

Orange Clouds and Purple Skies

By: sRoze

.:.: Prologue :.:.

“If you were given one last wish before dying, what would it be?”

“That, is such a morbid and boring question.”

“Answer it anyway.”

The amused look lingered briefly, and then fleeted away. A warm evening breeze whistled. She kicked a pebble and watched it skip before resting on the ground few feet away. A comfortable silence enveloped the two of them.

Time passed. He waited.

After what seemed like eternity, she lifted a quiet glance at the distant horizon. “Sunset,” she offered vaguely. “I want to see the sunset one last time. But,” she paused, lowering her head a little, “it wouldn’t just be any ordinary sunset.”

“Then how would it be?”

A soft beam lit her face. “I want it to be special.”

“How would it be special?” he continued patiently.

She didn’t reply. Instead she cast a meaningful look heavenwards. He followed her gaze. A small smile crept onto his lips as her unvoiced answer rang clear in his mind.

“I see.”

Turning to him, her eyes twinkled faintly with curiosity. “What do you see?”

“Colors. Your favorite colors.”

She studied his side profile carefully. Then, her expression softened. He understood.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she remarked in quiet awe.

He nodded, knowing easily what she meant.

She smiled wistfully, and focused forward. The scenery before her was absolutely gorgeous, so inspiring. She breathed in the cool fragrance of blooming orchids and sunflowers. There was something virgin with the whole picture. It brought to mind fuzzy images of a foreign past, reminded her of a child’s unstained pureness and charming naivety.

Those contemplative eyes then flickered to the evening sky, and she was mesmerized even more. Filling her lungs once more with the mild, alluring scents of nature, she set her imagination free...

Maybe… maybe it was once a huge white canvas, before someone worked their magic on it. She could just see them now, flinging large tins of blue and orange paint carelessly onto the blank piece, and then mixing the two colors together with one gigantic paintbrush...

… flecks of pink and white sprinkled in places to resemble the dotty clouds… the wispy lines of amber for the hazy billows surrounding the bright circle of fiery red… the purple mist creeping in from the edges highlighting perhaps the presence of impending night…

Yet, in the richness of vibrant colors there was also an underlying message of humble simplicity.

And that, she felt, was what made it all the more beautiful.

She moved closer to him. His hand met hers. Their fingers intertwined.

The two figures stood there silently, the dimming light reflected on their serene faces. They watched, hand in hand, as the hues of the skies turn from radiant orange to soft blue and then to whimsical pink.

Surveying the picturesque view, she felt an odd sense of déjà vu. The scenery before her seemed somewhat familiar, as though she had seen it somewhere before…

… In the realms of nightly visages and lyrical streams…

She remembered it now.

Poetry.

The lovely sundown greeting her, the gentle breeze caressing her face, the vivid colors splashing across the evening sky that was once a blank canvas… She wrote about them before, lines upon lines of prose immortalizing on paper the picture her mind’s eye saw. Sunsets were her favorite time of the day. She loved writing about sunsets. Many of her verses had references to sunset, be they metaphorical or literal.

And then there was this one, written amongst others in the pages of her notebook during one particularly boring Chemistry lesson.

She half-smiled. That poem was special to her… She loved the fact that it was completed in an act of spontaneity; it took her less than five minutes to come up with that lengthy piece of work. Even so it was her favorite, because it held the most truth about her. It was also because it jotted all her hopes and dreams for them.

She had always wanted to share her poetry with him. Maybe this would be a good time to do so.

“This is all so beautiful,” she enthused, tugging his hand. She looked up, and breathed lightly. Then closing her eyes softly she continued. “I wrote a poem about this before. Everything feels exactly like what I’ve described in this poem of mine.” Her eyelids fluttered open. “You wanna know what I titled it?”

He peered at her curiously. “What?”

She smiled at him. “’Orange Clouds –”

But before she could go on, she felt a finger held against her lip, silencing her. “ – And Purple Skies’,” he finished for her.

Her girlish features molded into an expression of shock. “How-how did you know?” she started, surprise lining her voice.

“I read your book. You lent it to me to copy the homework of the day,” came the smooth reply.

Her pupils widened in shock. “I did? Oh no, you didn’t!” she yelled in half-complete phrases.

She blinked her eyes out of momentary paralysis. The enormity of his actions suddenly dawned upon her. There were dozens of poems written in that notebook. If he had read one, he must have read them all. And, every single one spoke about them… Her hopes, her dreams of the future that she wish they would share… lovey little writings…

She fought a blush. “How dare you!” Her finger stabbed him repeatedly in the shoulder. “That’s private! Strictly confidential! Even if I did give you the permission technically when I said you could take my book, you ought to have the sense to not peer into another person’s private works!”

A shadow of a smirk crossed his lips. The rest of his face was etched however in thoughtful innocence. “How will I know they’re private?” He paused, tilting his head slightly in a questioning gesture. “Why is it private then?”

“Because they’re all about us – ” she snapped without thinking, and then stopped abruptly as her own words reach her ears. She clammed her mouth shut, contenting instead in throwing a death glare at his openly grinning form.

He gazed fondly at her fuming face already tinted with a shade of crimson. And then without warning, he burst out laughing.

“What?” she huffed, more annoyed with herself than the chuckling boy next to her.

The sounds of laughter died down to the mere rustling of the grass. With the traces of a smile visible on his faintly glowing features, he lifted her right hand still held in his own left and kissed it lightly. “Don’t stop,” he murmured lowly.

“What?” she breathed, the previous menacing threat of the word lost amid stunned amazement.

“Don’t stop at there.” He let her hand slip from his grasp. “If they’re all about us, shouldn’t I be able to read them too?”

“Yeah, but… but I’m not ready yet!” she blurted, her skin still tingling from his touch. She bit her lip. “To share those poems, that is. And… and those thoughts.”

He ran his fingers gently down the side of her face. She shivered from his caress. “Let’s pretend I haven’t read them yet,” he spoke softly. “When will you share them, the poems, the thoughts, with me? Will you,” he paused, “will you even share them with me?”

“I will!” she replied earnestly. Her eyes searched his, and she saw a flicker. The emotion in them was familiar, but indiscernible. She tore her gaze away, focusing it on a distant something just beyond his right shoulder. “I just don’t know when,” she continued, tones quieter.

She did not expect him to smile, lean forward and brushed her cheeks with a delicate touch of his lips. She inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth lingering on her skin where the feathery contact was made.

He didn’t withdraw, hovering instead just above her ears. A few wisps of hair caught his breath and tickled her neck.

She didn’t move, resisting the instinctual urge to either step backward or throw her arms around him. The faint fragrance of lush forests, his scent, filled the air.

They stood there like that, so close, so quiet, so still, as time passed them by.

The moment was magical. The world belonged to them.

Just them.

Him, her, and the setting sun.

Silence.

Just the rhythm of their own heartbeat.

And then…

“I’ll wait.”

He pulled back a little so that he was now inches away from her. The questioning look in her eyes brought a warm flutter to his heart. He just smiled adoringly back at her. Then gently he lifted both hands to either side of her head. Moving forward to close the gap between them, he planted a breezy kiss on her forehead.

She cast hooded eyes on the ground. And then sensing his retreat she turned up to him, still wearing the curious expression. Her lips parted as if to speak, but a single finger quickly hushed her.

“I’ll wait,” he repeated quiet but clear, and it seemed as though she now understood what he meant.

She nodded a wordless thank-you.

A satisfied smile flitted across his face. Then he reached for her hand, grasping it tightly. “It’s getting late.”

“We should get going,” she agreed quietly. The skies were a deeper shade of purple; the fiery sphere long since disappeared below the horizon. The few clouds still visible in the darkening dusk sky were pink in color, with just a tinge of orange glowing at their edges.

“’Orange Clouds and Purple Skies’ huh.”

“Yup! I get to see my poetry! Isn’t that cool?”

“Silly girl.”

“That holds some truth, I won’t deny.”

He smiled, then ruffled her tied hair affectionately. “Let’s get this silly girl home, shall we?”

“Lead the way, equally-silly-boy-who’s-in-love-with-this-silly-girl.”

“Hey!”

“You wanna deny something?”

“No, just want to correct it.”

“Which part?”

“The in-love part can stay.”

She narrowed her eyes amusingly at him. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?”

“All the better to match silly girls.”

“Idiot.”

“Silly girl.”

“Whatever.”

A pause.

“Idiot.”

A sigh.

“Knowing you, this could go on forever.”

Her tinkling giggle.

“I don’t mind doing this ’forever’. Really.”

His quiet chuckle.

“Silly girl.”

One kiss.

“Idiot.”

I’m not in the habit of explaining myself in my stories, will tell you people that first. Heh! Don’t know why I want to do that for this. So anyway, here goes:-

A. Note that there ain’t any names mention in here.

B. Does it seem to you readers that the girl is more energetic and lively, while the boy is the quiet one?

C. His “I’ll wait” goes beyond the ‘pretend I’ve never read them before’ part. It means something more profound, something deeper. About what? You guys tell me then. :beam:

D. The “One kiss” line is up to you people to decipher what it is. A kiss doesn’t always involve two pair of lips.

E. There's more to the poemobviously! If I ever continue this (read below), I'll definitely write out the full poem, ne?

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t so much of an explanation since they’re all pretty vague as well. Hehe!

This could possibly be just a one-shot. Even though I have my plot planned out already, I may not have the time to write it down. So, yeah. If I decide to continue however, be warned of fluff and waff, whatever difference they might have! :grin:

Please review, thank you!

sR

Posted on 28th April 2005 3.00AM