Picking Petals off a Daisy

5.7.08

He loves me… He loves me not… he loves me… he loves me not…

She was sitting on the edge of the lake. It was a ten minute walk through the woods, and she was the only one that had ever bothered to come out here, alone, nonetheless. She was daydreaming, as always. Dreams of fairies, dreams of stories, dreams of flying. She gazed at the sun as it dropped gently, the sky beginning to turn a soft pink.

She picked a daisy from the ground and held it in her lap, looking at it for a second before picking a petal off. Almost as a joke to herself, she said, “He loves me… he loves me not…” with each petal that fell.

“Who loves you?” came the voice from behind, the surprise gave her a chill.

“Oh!” she turned, saw who it was, blushed bright red, and said, “no one.”

“No one, of course,” he smiled to himself and sat down next to her, looking at her daisy, which she set in her lap. Then he glanced up to her blue eyes, “Who loves you?”

“Oh, no one. I didn’t mean anything by it.” And it was silent for a minute, neither saying anything. “Why’d you come here?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know… I just finally found a moment to myself. I’ve been meaning to find the path here. Hearing you talk about it, even briefly, made me curious. I can see why you always come here.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is…”

It was silent again. Nothing but the water lapping the shore, glistening and gossamer.

“It’s so… quiet,” she said eventually. “So peaceful. It’s nice to take a moment to forget about life – all of the troubles and pain it brings you. It’s nice to have a moment of peace, no matter how brief.”

“You’ve thought a lot about that, haven’t you?” he said, turning from the magnificent sunset to look in her eyes again, a soft deep green, like the lake that showed the reflections of the trees, of the sun, shining its last rays.

“I think a lot when I come here… I disconnect myself from the world. Don’t think about its pain. Think about nature. Think about nothingness.”

“Oh…” he didn’t quite know what to say, but he was thinking about her, for sure.

“Why’d you come here tonight?” she asked, and the wind blew gently through the leaves.

“I told you, I finally found a moment for myself.”

“No, but why’d you come here, now, when you’d know I’d be here too?”

“I don’t know… I just…”

She finally turned to look at him, the first time since he’d emerged from the woods, and looked into his eyes.

“I…” he couldn’t say it. He wanted to, but he couldn’t say it. “I should go now…” he started to get up abruptly, but she reached over and grabbed his hand to stop him, “Wait.”

He sighed, and sat down again. She wasn’t making this easy. “You’re trying to say something, right?” she didn’t wait for his response, “Just say it. I’m not letting you leave until you do,” and she smiled lightly, lighting up her face.

“I guess… well… I like you.”

“I think you’re just dandy too,” she grinned.

“No…” his heart fell, she could see it in his eyes,“I mean-“

“Yeah, I know.”

“So?” he was scared. He shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have come here. He should have known this would happen.

“I like you too.”

Well, that was certainly a shock to him. He realized his hand still in hers on the grass.

“So… umm… would… would you be mine?”

“I’d be more than glad to.”

And they both smiled at each other, her green-blue eyes gazed into his mid-blue, like the lake, meeting the night sky. “Umm… well, I really should be going…” his head fell, telling the truth this time. “My parents told me not to stay out past dark… See you in the morning?”

“See you in the morning,” and she squeezed his hand. It moved a little bit in hers, but grasped it a little tighter as he leaned over to kiss her goodnight. They both smiled in pure, absolute bliss into the kiss before he pulled away to leave.

“Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams.”

And he disappeared into the woods.

She turned back to the lake and remembered the daisy in her lap, with one petal remaining. She picked it off, placed it in her open palm, and blew it off where it was carried away with the breeze, “He loves me.”

A/N: Again, I'm not quite sure what brought this one on. Not sure I like it, I like the one I wrote earlier this week a lot more, Softly Strumming His Guitar. Mmmm... I'm not particularly proud of this one. I want to know where these random bursts of inspiration are coming from, though, it's driving me crazy, I haven't written any stories in eternity. Ack. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it.

5.12.08: Ha! Ok, I fixed my silly 3AM mistake... should have caught that before...

6.11.08: Finally, I got around to a rewrite!