She found him. After weeks of what seemed like fruitless searching, she had found him. When the door had slid open she had raced into the control room. She couldn't believe that he was alive. He had been captured by the mafia from Laris weeks ago. It was miracle. . . or so she thought.

As she gets closer to him she notices that it isn't who she thought it was. But she was so sure that it was him. . . Heart pounding and voice cracking she whispers,

"Mansel, is that you?"

The young man nodds.

A tear leaks out of her right icy-blue eye. She slows to a walk. When she reaches him she presses her palms against his face. She remembers the feel of his face and she knows that it is Mansel. She wonders what torture the Larisian mafia has done to him. Mansel's once golden hazel eyes are now a cold, hard red. His long, brown curls are all gone. His entire body except for his mouth, nose, and forehead was covered in a golden, metal body. It was though it was molded into Mansel's body.

"Oh Mansel, what have they done to you?" She asks.

Mansel hangs his head in remorse. She grabs his chin, to make him meet her icy-blue eyes. She can feel him trembling. Or was that the ship? Slowly being demolished by their people? Didn't their people know that she was rescuing one of their own? "We have to get out of here," She says, taking his metal-covered hand.

Mansel shakes his head. She looks at him closer and sees that his entire backside is fused into the wall behind him. She feels herself pale, he doesn't even budge. She knows that he can't detach himself. Now she feels herself tear from both sides. She tries to suck it back in, keep herself for together for Mansel's sake.

"I won't leave you," She promises.

Mansel gives her a sad smile.

"Go," Mansel urges her.

"I. . . I can't." Her voice cracks in desperation.

Mansel moves his arm (a great effort) and stroaks her pulled back, short, white-blonde hair.

"Go," Mansel repeats.

She shakes her head. "I won't leave you here to die, Mansel."

"I'll die anyways," Mansel counters. "You deserve to live."

"I can't leave you. . . I won't leave you. . . " Her voice trails off.

The ship violently shakes, causing her to stumble against Mansel's body. Warning bleep, only a few minutes before the ship's self-destruct system goes off. Mansel's eyes widen. Then he sighs. "Go. . . please."

"No," she says firmly. "Too late anyways."

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" Mansel says.

Once again she presses her palms against Mansel's face. She presses her lips against his. His lips are soft, cold, and familiar.


Mansel whispers her name after they break apart. Another warning is issued from the ship. A minute left. . .

"Shh. . . " Ara places her pointer finger to silence him. Mansel pulls it away.

"I love you, Ara."

Thirty seconds left. . .

Mansel touches a necklace Ara is wearing that is resting on her white tank top. He remembers the day he gave it to her, a token of his love to her. He had done this two years ago, when they were seventeen.

Mansel and Ara kiss again. Ara leans against him and buries his face into his chest.

" 'Til the very end," Mansel says.

Ara feels him kiss her head. "I love you too. I don't regret staying. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I had."

"I know, Love."

Ten seconds left. . .

Mansel moves Ara's gaze so that they are looking into each other's eyes. He leans in for one last passionate kiss when the first explosions go. They feel the heat instantly race towards them, Ara ignores the searing white-hot metal of Mansel's body. They continue to look into each other's eyes.

And then-



This story was meant to be a short one. It was inspired by a picture I saw on . The picture is called: "impossible_lov3_ver3" by bluefley. I thought the picture was so intriguing I had to write about what I thought was going on it personally. Really awesome picture. Hoped you liked the story. Wish I could make it longer but, I think it is meant to be this short. Anyways, hoped you liked the short story and you should check out at the pic at deviantart to see for yourself.

Norah Strike