I know some of you are wondering why the hell I'm writing this stuff when I have a story I just updated after six long months. Well, I'm participating in the Ficitionista FitWit Challenge to see if it will help clear my head and get it back into the writing game. All of these will be unedited, as the point of the challenge is to just write and not worry about editing. I probably won't be able to update every day, depending on the prompt or how my day is going. Reviews would be nice, but I won't beg for them or require them. :) I do hope you enjoy what I come up with, and I hope you're not TOO angry with me for starting another 'story'!

Creative Original or Derivative Fiction: Derivative- Twilight
Rating/Warning(s): T
Notes: Just need to clear the head and todays prompt inspired some drabble.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

Prompt: Oceanic


The water below was tumultuous, an angry child beating its fists against the cliff wall. The sky was sad in its own right, gray with clouds that sped across the sky with the wind. Her hair caught in the wind, too, and she made no move to clear the strands from her face. Though it was warm out, the fine mist drifting from above chilled what skin it touched when the air swirled around, caressing as it traveled on its way to the woods behind her.

She'd thought of jumping off this cliff many times, had come here time and time again, contemplating just stepping off the edge and dancing with the empty space as gravity drew her to the waters embrace. She often wondered if she'd die if she did jump, or if she'd be carried away in the current and arrive, wet and broken, on some undiscovered island in the middle of the Pacific.

A warm hand came from nowhere, enclosing hers, slender fingers curling and tangling with hers. Her eyes closed and the chaos of her mind calmed at the touch. She felt him move to stand next to her, but he never said a word, his hand the only indication he was really there.

She finally opened her eyes to look at him, shining periwinkle into patient cobalt, and smiled at him, a true smile, and his answering one was the sunshine that was hidden in the sad sky.

"I've missed your smile," he said quietly, the fluttering wind bringing his voice to her ears. "I'm glad to see it again."

"I never wanted you to see my sad. I wasn't very good at hiding from you." She frowned, angry at herself for dragging his bright spirit into her wallowing. Her loss and resulting disappointment in her failure as a wife, as a woman drew her away from him and she wanted to jump off the cliff for soiling his life and the expectations they'd had of their future. She took a deep breath, squeezing his hand to remind her of their connection and centered herself again.

"Don't." She looked at him, confused at the lonely syllable that shot from his mouth. His eyes were still patient, but his expression was frustrated. She found herself in the heat of his embrace, the mist no longer chilling her.

"I'm not angry at you; I'm not disappointed in you. I love you no matter what. What more can I do to make you see that?" his voice quiet and fervent in her ear. "Forever, you and me, and if that's all there is, then that's all we'll be."

She pressed her face into his shoulder, the tears mingling with the dampness already collected on his shirt. "I know. I understand the words. It doesn't make the feelings of failing myself, of failing you, hurt any less. I'm sorry for making you sad, too. I tried to hide it."

His voice rumbled through his chest and the vibrations against her face soothed her. "It didn't work, honey. You can't keep punishing yourself and suffering in silence over something you can't help. We'll get through it together. You don't have to be alone."

"I don't have to be alone." She repeated, letting the words drive away the dark. She chanted them to herself inside her head, each repetition bringing her strength. She had him, he loved her, and they could be happy as just the two. She couldn't ever forget that.

She wouldn't.

"That's right, baby, you don't have to be alone. You aren't alone." He pulled back and looked at her, his smile soft as he pushed the tendrils of gold away from her face. "I love you bigger than the ocean."

She returned his smile with a genuine one of her own at the exchange they often used. "I love you, too, bigger than the sky."