Evening Star
She gazed up at the blue velvet sky before her, the stars twinkling like diamonds. It was time to move on, she decided. No more reaching for something that she couldn't have. She sighed as the gentle breeze flitted in through her open window making her blond locks blow past her, tickling her rosy cheeks. She shivered slightly and drew the doors of the window in and closed the light drapes.
Not ready to fall into a peaceful slumber she brought her knees to her chest and curled up on the tiny window seat. She pushed back a lacey curtain with a slender hand and looked out at the moon, how it shone down making the shadows dance about, but also how it cast an eerie glow from above. Somehow in the night everything seemed more threatening and vulnerable, as if the blackness made you exposed to the world. Rendering you naked and alone. She supposed it did, stripping you of all the false securities that the daylight held. She sighed again, this time in defeat, like the whole world had conquered her, leaving her broken for everyone to see.
To her surprise she found herself crying. Not harsh, body racking sobs, but gentle tears that fell from her emerald eyes and rolled off her pretty face. She swiped at the tears, almost ashamed that she'd allowed her emotions to control her. The back of her hand wiped her wet cheeks, stopping to rub her little nose. She fingered the soft material of the cushion and was hit by a wave of sleepiness. Slowly she closed her eyes as she drifted off.
The darkness intrigued him greatly. His fingertips caressed the cool pane of glass as he stared into the night. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a star shooting across the universe and although it seemed very naïve of him, he shut his eyelids tight and made a wish. A smirk played upon his lips at the thought that it just might come true, but he just shook his head. He had wished for the unattainable, he had wished for love.
Walking over to an ornate table, he poured himself a glass of liquor. He sipped it slowly, savoring not only the taste, but also the moment that he had to himself. His mind reeled when he was alone. Thoughts raced through his head, crowding his actual ability to think clearly. He conceded that was the reason for such an out of character longing to love someone. But, perhaps more importantly to have someone love him back. He had never experienced that feeling, or even many feelings, other than hurt. He'd had a lot of hurt in his life, a burden that he carried around. Though the suffering was carefully hidden behind a cocky attitude, playboy lifestyle and an arrogant smile forever gracing his face.
He downed the drink, tilting his head back as well as the glass. He slammed it down on the table, his fist shaking. He took a few deep breaths before turning his attention to the bed. She lay there, watching him with fascination. His mouth formed a wicked grin as she beckoned for him to join her. He willingly obliged.
The rays of sunlight shone in the young girl's room, awakening her with a soothing whisper. She stirred as her eyelids fluttered open. She recalled the night's events with heartache as she padded across the room to her vanity. There she sat, her face staring back at her in a mocking fashion. It was no wonder that he hadn't loved her. She wasn't a beauty queen or a cheerleader or the object of every man's affection. No. She was simply a girl, and only that. Perhaps one who came off as quirky and sarcastic, but never as datable. She was the best friend, the confidant, not the girlfriend. Just as the night before, tears began to fill her eyes, clouding her vision and making her reflection seem blurred-just how she felt. She drew in a shaky breath, scolding herself for thinking this way. She was more that this....she had to be.
He tossed and turned all night, thinking about his childish wish. He rolled over, and carelessly flung his arm on the sleeping body beside him, her mahogany hair splayed across the pillow. He doubted that he even knew her name. She, of course, meant nothing to him as most women did. Which is why he considered it foolish to desire something as trivial as love. Yet he yearned for it in a way that he could not understand nor explain.
He supposed that he was wrong. He had experienced a type of love, one that he hoped most people had. It was the love of the mother. But that had been ripped from his possession. He wrestled with his inner thoughts. Torn between wanting to love and being afraid of that very same thing. Which was why this nameless woman beside him was in fact there at all. She was a toy to him, something he could play with until he got bored. And now something inside of him was begging him to change. To follow-for the first time in his life-his wounded heart.
Two different people, from two different worlds, destined to cross paths. To love one another under the magnificent evening star.
She gazed up at the blue velvet sky before her, the stars twinkling like diamonds. It was time to move on, she decided. No more reaching for something that she couldn't have. She sighed as the gentle breeze flitted in through her open window making her blond locks blow past her, tickling her rosy cheeks. She shivered slightly and drew the doors of the window in and closed the light drapes.
Not ready to fall into a peaceful slumber she brought her knees to her chest and curled up on the tiny window seat. She pushed back a lacey curtain with a slender hand and looked out at the moon, how it shone down making the shadows dance about, but also how it cast an eerie glow from above. Somehow in the night everything seemed more threatening and vulnerable, as if the blackness made you exposed to the world. Rendering you naked and alone. She supposed it did, stripping you of all the false securities that the daylight held. She sighed again, this time in defeat, like the whole world had conquered her, leaving her broken for everyone to see.
To her surprise she found herself crying. Not harsh, body racking sobs, but gentle tears that fell from her emerald eyes and rolled off her pretty face. She swiped at the tears, almost ashamed that she'd allowed her emotions to control her. The back of her hand wiped her wet cheeks, stopping to rub her little nose. She fingered the soft material of the cushion and was hit by a wave of sleepiness. Slowly she closed her eyes as she drifted off.
The darkness intrigued him greatly. His fingertips caressed the cool pane of glass as he stared into the night. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a star shooting across the universe and although it seemed very naïve of him, he shut his eyelids tight and made a wish. A smirk played upon his lips at the thought that it just might come true, but he just shook his head. He had wished for the unattainable, he had wished for love.
Walking over to an ornate table, he poured himself a glass of liquor. He sipped it slowly, savoring not only the taste, but also the moment that he had to himself. His mind reeled when he was alone. Thoughts raced through his head, crowding his actual ability to think clearly. He conceded that was the reason for such an out of character longing to love someone. But, perhaps more importantly to have someone love him back. He had never experienced that feeling, or even many feelings, other than hurt. He'd had a lot of hurt in his life, a burden that he carried around. Though the suffering was carefully hidden behind a cocky attitude, playboy lifestyle and an arrogant smile forever gracing his face.
He downed the drink, tilting his head back as well as the glass. He slammed it down on the table, his fist shaking. He took a few deep breaths before turning his attention to the bed. She lay there, watching him with fascination. His mouth formed a wicked grin as she beckoned for him to join her. He willingly obliged.
The rays of sunlight shone in the young girl's room, awakening her with a soothing whisper. She stirred as her eyelids fluttered open. She recalled the night's events with heartache as she padded across the room to her vanity. There she sat, her face staring back at her in a mocking fashion. It was no wonder that he hadn't loved her. She wasn't a beauty queen or a cheerleader or the object of every man's affection. No. She was simply a girl, and only that. Perhaps one who came off as quirky and sarcastic, but never as datable. She was the best friend, the confidant, not the girlfriend. Just as the night before, tears began to fill her eyes, clouding her vision and making her reflection seem blurred-just how she felt. She drew in a shaky breath, scolding herself for thinking this way. She was more that this....she had to be.
He tossed and turned all night, thinking about his childish wish. He rolled over, and carelessly flung his arm on the sleeping body beside him, her mahogany hair splayed across the pillow. He doubted that he even knew her name. She, of course, meant nothing to him as most women did. Which is why he considered it foolish to desire something as trivial as love. Yet he yearned for it in a way that he could not understand nor explain.
He supposed that he was wrong. He had experienced a type of love, one that he hoped most people had. It was the love of the mother. But that had been ripped from his possession. He wrestled with his inner thoughts. Torn between wanting to love and being afraid of that very same thing. Which was why this nameless woman beside him was in fact there at all. She was a toy to him, something he could play with until he got bored. And now something inside of him was begging him to change. To follow-for the first time in his life-his wounded heart.
Two different people, from two different worlds, destined to cross paths. To love one another under the magnificent evening star.