Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ These Words And Nothing More ❯ Chapter 1

These Words And Nothing More

-Antonia Bird

 

He read the note again before sighing and leaning back. The old, wooden chair groaned in protest as he put his weight on it. He placed the paper on a matching table next to him, which, besides the note, supported a reading lamp and a glass of water. Except for the lamp, the rest of the apartment matched how he felt: dark and empty. For, no matter how many times he read the letter, she was not coming back, and the emptiness would remain.

She was gone. No matter what he did, she wouldn't come back. He could pray, close his eyes and wish, but she was gone. He had driven her away by trying to hold on to her. By trying to protect, he had hurt the only person who had ever mattered to him, and now she was gone. Now nothing would fill the emptiness.

He remembered when he had first met her. Her hair was a frizzy mess. She hardly spoke, and she almost never looked up from the floor or a book. She dressed in clothing too big for her, and her pale skin seemed to never tan. She was so timid and mousey; he had barely given her a second thought until later.

He remembered when he first saw those large, hazel-green eyes. Swirling with annoyance at him and his friend, there was a strong knowledge behind them, strengthening every emotion. She had become so beautifully upset, her hair - the cause of his and his friend's taunting - moving way from her face. Her eyes flashing lividly like the sun glinting off amber streaked jade. As he taunted her more, he found, he would see those awesome eyes more, perfectly amplified by silver framed glasses on her pale. In want of seeing those open, innocent eyes, he would taunt her.

His memories traveled to the first time he saw those eyes filled with pain. He'd never forget when he found her, shivering in a corner, as her hair tumbled down in dark curls across her face, her natural copper highlights darkened at the tips from tears preceding the ones which shone in her eyes. Those eyes were so hopeless, so lost. With so much hurt and betrayal, he could almost see the dark hand of depression squeezing her chest and sinking its poisoned claws of hate deep into her heart. He could almost see her pure innocence slipping away.

He had held her that day for the first time. Both of them comforted each other, letting their walls around them fall as their tears fell. When she left not long after, he stayed with her until she had to leave. They were reluctant to part, however, even though their loathing for each other had been as fervid as a flame not even a week ago. He did not want to let her go.

He remembered the feel of her touch, the warm rush of her blood lying just under his fingertips as he held her. It had soothed him. Her heart beating gently with his own, entwining into one sound had lulled him into a spell and a sense of being cared for. He clung to it. He didn't want to let it go, and it seemed that she did not wish to let go as well.

They didn't let go either. After that day, they were fast friends. There was something dancing just beneath the surface for both of them. Their friendship was as intense as their loathing had been and more, but the fire that burned was more gentle, more soothing, and warmer now. As they grew closer, he realized he cared more for her than he should, but he didn't care. He found every opportunity to hold her, touch her, and be close to her.

He remembered her scent. She had always smelled of rain and wild roses. She had never worn perfume, but she always smelled of the sweetest scent he could imagine. It made him feel light, and it surrounded him in a blanket of comfort and security. She held his heart. In her gentle hands, which were covered in thorns for any one else, she had taken his broken heart and put it back together again, and even though she had offered his heart back to him, he trusted her to hold it.

He remembered her smile then. The first time he had seen her smile had been because of him, and it had made that renewed heart in her hands sing. She had become luminescent with her laughter, the effect surging up into her eyes. Her eyes had almost glowed with emerald and gold light. The smile had warmed him. Afterwards, he saw her smile more often. He began to notice when she smiled and all the different smiles she had. She would smile before and after crying, trying to fight it off. She would smile at something amusing, and she would smile for him. He lived and longed for those slow, spreading smiles, which were his. Those gems she kept only for him were more precious than anything in the world to him. They were his, and he never wanted anyone else seeing those beautiful ruby lips tilted upward in that way.

It wasn't until her friend told him she liked him that he liked her too, and it wasn't until the first time he kissed her that he realized he loved her. He loved her. He loved every bit about her. He loved her hair, soft curling in cascades of spun rubies with darkened gold; he loved her soft voice, low and gently creeping into his thoughts as he heard her words even though she was no where near; he loved her smiles, all different; he loved her person, so different from anyone else that made her stand out like a wild flower in the wrong garden that was more beautiful and sweeter smelling than the rest, and he loved her eyes. Her jade, lightening-streaked eyes would show her every emotion, no matter how hard she'd try to hide it. He loved everything that was she.

How could he let her go? The answer was simple: he couldn't. He couldn't let her go because of a mistake he had made, and he wouldn't.

He stood and streamed out of the apartment, the letter lying forlorn on the table. He ran out, shouting her name. The crowds shouted back at him as he barreled through, upsetting them, but he didn't care. He felt someone crashing into him, but he only saw her in his mind's eye, so he only kept going, almost like a man possessed. He flew down the street as if he had wings on his back. He ran and ran until he hit the fence.

The chain-link fence separating him from her stood between them like a wall separating two worlds as he showed her name, drawing her attention. The people parted around her like a river parted by a stone. As they moved to the sidewalk, the turned to watch the two interact. Those pretending not to be interested covered their children's eyes, telling the younger generation not to stare. He didn't care, he only saw her.

She smiled when she saw him, her jeweled hair blowing in and around her face as one of his smiles bloomed to illuminate through the dark that had been his life only moments before. He smiled back, tears of relief falling down his face. Tears also ran down her cheeks, falling from her gemstone eyes.

He called for her to come back, his voice beseeching, his eyes begging. A sob shook her, as if she were the last leaf quivering on a tree as the autumn wind blew through it, and she took one step, only one step, into the middle of the road before she stopped. She closed her eyes, shaking her head no.

His tears were no longer of relief. They feel in a barrage of confusion as he pleaded with her, telling her why and how much he loved her. He fought against the fence separating them, keeping him from her, and keeping their worlds apart. Some of the bolder members of the crowd began to cheer him on, telling her to go to him, all their attention on the two, and still she stayed where she was. Her eyes closed against them all, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as she shook her head, vigorously, almost as if she were fighting herself, and still she constantly remained, shaking her head no.

There was a noise. The crowd shouted almost as one, and the bus, unable to stop, hit her shaking figure and crashed into the building. The crowd screamed as chaos ensued, and still he fought against the fence, which had separated them.

He looked at the note in his hand again as he ignored the aftermath playing on the 6 o'clock news before he put it down on the coffee table in front of him. His forlorn figure hunched down as he held his head in his hands. His tears were spent, and only grief remained. He looked at the note again, only to see more words, which he had not noticed before.

He picked the note up again and read the words before new tears found their way to his eyes. He dropped the note and began to shake, sobs once again blasting their way through his body like a winter's storm. Sobs caused by the words he should have said so many years ago left veins of ice fire down his cheeks. The words “I love you”. These words, and nothing more.