standing on the cold chalk edge of the wall was the hardest thing I had to do. It was the end of everything. My foot stayed steady, yet dust sprang from beneath them, reminding me it was real. It was something. The goosebumps trapping air was the only capability of warmth that I kept. I thought of him. I couldn't see him any more. I looked at the glistening rocks that were below me. I breathed in the salty air, as the sea crashed against the rocks, turning them silver almost. Nick. Nick Johnst- I couldn't bring myself to even imagine his name again, let alone speak it. The wind swept my hair to its wrong side and a tear fell down my exposed cheek. I pushed my arms out and raised on foot. Not a leg, just a foot. I wasn't brave at all- not like the wind so eager to push me softly.
I heard footsteps up the path of the lighthouse. I gasped, as I raised my leg, took a step almost and I leant forward. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what for but I'm sorry", I breathed a barely audible whisper of a secret I couldn't take any more. At the nano second I could have leapt, I fell back with arms slid around my waist and I fell to the ground. The sudden warmth of a body beneath me was unimaginable. The arms loosened. I breathed again. I still was something. It was manic subversion. The breath I had taken was the scent of him. "why are you here?", I tried to speak, but instead I choked. His warm hand ran through my damp hair. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the milky purple sky that didn't move. If anything, it was dead. It mirrored me in some ways. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I tried to get up, but he laid me back down on him. "Butterflies", he whispered, gazing into my eyes. His blue eyes like the sea. Calm, pure blue with flecks of ghost white beauty. Then it all came back to me, the butterflies…