My hands carelessly brushed the rough bark of the tree. The coarse, chocolate colour odd against my own soft, pale skin made me wonder how we both look so unalike but are so similar at the same time. The way we are both living organisms, free in the wind, nonetheless stuck, alone with no sense of security. I chuckle shaking my head at my stupid comparison. My laugh sings in the air, mocking me with the feeling of freedom. My blue eyes take a liking to a fallen over tree, decorated involuntarily with autumn leaves the colour of spices and fruits. I sat on the trunk once again rubbing my hands on the stubble surface. I close my eyes trying to focus on one noise at a time. The leaves grazing against each other in the tress an upon the forest floor thanks the bearing of the wind. Drops of dew dripping from a leaf struggling to stay green in the unforgiving change of season. Beautiful songs sung by birds with designs like no other perfecting each note with lilted endings. I opened my eyes as I thought of the song my mother used to sing so sweetly to me whenever she tucked me in bed at night. I started to hum it, the lyrics combining into honeyed notes that people said gave goose bumps. The music turned into lyrics known off by heart that rolled off my tongue like sweet syrup,
"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little horses."
I stand to walk again not listening to my surroundings, although I should have because he was standing there watching and listening in content. My steps weren't careful but sounded like butterflies landing. I continued, thinking about my mother every step of the way.
"Black and bays, dapples, grays,
All the pretty little horses.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby."
He followed, I didn't know he was there. I stopped to pick a bright blue flower blooming from a tall bush. The petals' tips were whitish, like someone hadn't properly coloured the flower in to my liking. Nether the less it looked beautiful. I twirled it in my fingers whilst singing the last verse of the song,
"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little horses."
He was just behind me, he took the stunning flower from my cold fingers and held it to his nose, his eyes closing as he breathed in the intoxicating scent. I was stunned, my wide eyes staring at him in shock as I didn't expect him to be here. He opened his eyes and looked at me with dark chocolate coloured eyes that reminded me of the rough bark on the tress, but his seemed soft and nurturing. He took his empty hand and brushed my golden blonde hair from my face, tracing his fingers lightly around the shape of my ears as he did so. He took the flower he has removed from my hands ten seconds before and placed it behind my ear so it sat in my hair just right. My blonde hair fell back down coving the stalk of the flower to perfect the look he was trying to create. His dark, black hair fell in curls that sat so softly I just wanted to run my hand through them. He looked me straight in the eyes with no doubt in presence and smiled the sweetest smile I had ever seen and the introduced himself in the most chivalrous way I had ever seen,
"Bellamy Blake, it is a pleasure to meet you."
He held my hand to his lips and kissed it so softly it almost didn't seem real.
"Clarke Griffin,"
I reply back with slight uncertainty,
"And it's a pleasure to meet you too."