Author: bluester07 PM
Love is something that must be sacrificed, in the end. For better or for worse. The sacrifices we make will give our life a purpose, a meaning. And maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out okay... Angst, with a happy ending. bluester07Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Angst - Words: 824 - Published: 01-24-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3094899
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Love is something that must be sacrificed, in the end. For better or for worse...
His hands, rough and calloused from gripping his sword, are soft as they press lightly on my cheeks, brush against my neck, run down my sides. His arms are strong as the wrap around me, holding me firm against him, the only place I feel safe. He smells of pine needle, damp with the rain, an intoxicating scent that overrides my senses. His breath is warm and sweet as it tickles my skin, lingering with my puffs of air. His eyes, like pools of liquid fire, gaze into mine, and my breath hitches in my chest. They're beautiful. Their kind, caring, but intimidating and superior. Just like him. His whispered words of love echo in my head, tugging on my heart, my pulse a maddening speed.
His lips, soft and plump, touch mine, gently, lovingly. And I kiss him back, with a fierce determination, relinquishing in the feeling of his chest rising and falling against mine. Sparks seem to fly around us, a radiant light growing stronger and stronger.
And suddenly, he's gone. Vanished into thin air. The lingering feel of his warmth still envelopes me. But a dark, hollow loneliness presses in. My stomach clenches and my heart stops beating.
Where is he?
My eyes fly open, and I shoot up, scrambling to my feet, running out the door, my footsteps resonating in the silence.
That's how it feels, knowing that he'll never return.
A silence in my heart.
I run until my feet hurt, and press on still. The gravel stones are sharp and harsh against my soles, but I don't care. I don't want to care. The pain is a reminder that this is real. This isn't a dream or a memory. It's reality.
The pebbles make way to grass. Soft, silky grass. And that's when I collapse.
A sob crawls up my throat, out of my mouth, the sound piercing the quiet yard. But I can't hold it in any longer. It needs to escape.
He's not coming back.
The realisation is as painful as any bruise, as sharp as the cut of any knife's blade.
He'll never return. Not this time.
A shiver runs down my spine, followed by countless more. But it isn't cold. I'm never cold anymore.
You'll never see him again. Ever.
A part of me died that day, as the life left his eyes, the warmth left his touch, the sweet smell left his skin, replaced with the sickening odor of death and decay.
A part of my world was lost forever.
And I'll never get it back.
The sacrifices we make will give our life a purpose, a meaning...
Under a willow tree, by the lake, I sit and watch the sun set over the horizon. The colours flare, bright and cheerful, reflecting on the water's surface. It is peaceful, the only sounds the whistle of the wind as the trees confess the deepest secrets of this world. Birds fly through the clouds, and ducks glide through the mirage of hues that is the clear, calm lake.
This is his favourite place. That's why I'm here. Because it's all I have left.
My fingers run through the clover that covers the ground, feeling the soft, silky leaves of the tiny plant, the quiver of the stalk as my touch disturbs the stillness. It makes me think of him. This was, after all, one of his favourite things about this spot. The cushion of plants, the prefect bed to lay down to rest on.
Ridiculous thoughts always seemed to pass through his mind. Crazy ideas were always sprouting from his head. But I never doubted that he was a genius. Even now.
A tear traces down my cheek, curling under my chin. I close my eyes, depriving myself of the beauty around me. It reminds me too much of him.
An imaginary finger brushes away my tears, the soft touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in it's wake.
"I'm here," I imagine he whispers. "I'm here."
Nonexistent hands cup my cheeks, and tender lips brush against mine.
"Open your eyes."
I don't want to. Because when I do, I'll see nothing. He'll be gone again, and I'll be left with nothing but my barren, damaged heart. But if I don't open my eyes, I'll believe in the hallucinations. I'll believe he's really there, and that'll only make the torment worse.
So my eyes slowly open.
And there he is, with a graceful smile.
And I'm suddenly whole again.
And maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out okay.
Nameless characters, plotless story. Just a little angsty romance one-shot.
Tell me what you think!