Prose, 2005 — This one was written when I was 15 as well. In fact, expect that all posts from 2005 were written by 15-year-old me. 15 was a trying age for me, what with my love-sickness and all that pining for romance. Naturally, most of what I've written at that time was themed as such.
This story is about love found again. I can't quite recall what inspired this story. Perhaps I was high on romance novels back then. As I expected, I did cringe when I read this again after seven years of it laying dormant in the archives, but not as much as I did with my poetry from the last Flashback Friday post. So now, with further ado...
Come Back
She
watched wearily as he approached her, her eyes noting every single
ounce of perecftion. She never thoguht he'd come back; never thought
she'd see him again. But there he was, like a ghostly apparition of some
nightmare-dream.
He stopped a mere few feet from her, near enough to hold her captive should she choose to turn away.
She looked into his eyes, and she nearly drowned into those green depths. Her father once said that the eyes were windows to one's soul and to one's heart, but looking into his eyes, she saw nothing. No love. No hate. No happiness nor sadness, just cold emptiness.
She didn't know what to do. Common sense told her to turn the opposite way and run like the dogs of hell were after her, but what she wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him, hold him close to her, and never let him go.
Tears were starting to fall now. they shown brightly against her rosy cheeks. A tentative hand rested against them to wipe the tears away and she placed her own hand over his rough and calloused one.
He stopped a mere few feet from her, near enough to hold her captive should she choose to turn away.
She looked into his eyes, and she nearly drowned into those green depths. Her father once said that the eyes were windows to one's soul and to one's heart, but looking into his eyes, she saw nothing. No love. No hate. No happiness nor sadness, just cold emptiness.
She didn't know what to do. Common sense told her to turn the opposite way and run like the dogs of hell were after her, but what she wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him, hold him close to her, and never let him go.
Tears were starting to fall now. they shown brightly against her rosy cheeks. A tentative hand rested against them to wipe the tears away and she placed her own hand over his rough and calloused one.
Finally she saw emotion in those green eyes. There was sadness and remorse, but most of all there was regret.
She didn't know how it had happened — if she made the first move or he did — but they were in each others arms. Wrapped in an embrace so tight, she thought she would sink into him and she wanted to.
He whisphered words in hear ear. His regret in leaving her. the sadness that followed him everywhere. The contentment and satisfaction he could not find with any other woman but only with her. And in return she told him of her own sadness and her own regrets.
He whispered his love to her and she to him. Finally they released each other, only to embrace once more in a never ending love.
The sun broke into the horizon. It shined its bright rays of light at them. It marked a new day. A new day for him. A new day for her. A new day for the both of them — together.
This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.
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