It was instinctual, no thought given for any consequences. All she needed was to lose herself, and quickly. She needed to lose herself in a warm embrace, without the giver feeling the obligation to whisper sweet, reassuring nothings in her ear. It wasn't about feelings, but feeling. Instinct. Swept back to basics, with no near intentions of surfacing to the complex life she had just so readily departed with abandon. The plan was never to be helped, only to survive.
Too many lives had been lost to both differentiating between friend and foe. There were no divisions in her minds… That would require thought. This was feeling.
There was no cliché aspect to her actions and their eventual response, not in the slightest. Their last remaining choice had been placed in front of them with no explanation. It was at a point of do or die... Well, perhaps not, but the way her soul was being ripped from her body certainly felt as though that was the case.
And it was then that they made their choice, the choice to survive. Survival was not an option, in the truest sense of free choice, but rather the last available to them.
The response was immediate and motivating by feeling; the rawness was evidence enough. They were two people starved of hope and life, two people forced into situations that not only should never have become reality, but never thought of. The feeling of an imminent end was relentless, with each other their only hope.
The heavy weight was lifting, although only enough to breathe somewhat more freely than before. It was the fault of neither one that they found themselves in this situation, yet the conclusion they had simultaneously met, without a word spoken, was proof of their conflicting natures finally finding peace.
It was that moment that she sealed their fates with her lips on his.
AN: I know that was short and ever so mysterious/intriguing (or so I'd like to believe, you may prefer 'pointless'), but I was walking home and needed to write. The compulsion came, and we all know not to fight the little Dickens (or Austen - I can't particularly decide…. Maybe both?) on our shoulder when he pops up.
In any way, that hereby signals my return to …. thus you may now commence your hearty rounds of applause. I must say, I have a rather erratic history on here, but as they say, 'if at first you do not succeed [in being loyal to just one story at a time and actually finishing it instead of getting bored and having writer's block, etc. etc.], try and try again!'.
If anyone has any suggestions on what they would like to see, please let me know – review, PM, whatever
With that, I thank you very much for reading this little snippet of what might be later extended, depending on what you all think!
Cheerio!