She's fucking beautiful.
The scene before him is mesmerizing. She looks like a painting; some pulchritudinous character from a fairy tale, and god, does he want to be her prince. Illuminated in the sparklers she holds, she dances, looking wonderful and beautiful and young and free. That hurts the most- how happy she looks; all wide grin and bell-like laugh. Gritting his teeth, he wonders why he couldn't make her that happy.
Why she didn't let him.
All he really wants to do is pull her by the arm, lean down, and kiss her. Kiss her like he should have all those months they were together. He wants to open himself up and pour out all his love onto her- into her- until she finally gets that he's the one she should be smiling about, not some American-boy dreamboat with perfect hair.
Can't she see the way he's looking at her? Surely she's noticed the desperation in his eyes. Or the adoration? Doesn't she see that he's there;, he's gotten help, and he's ready to do anything and everything he can to call her his blue eyes again?
Can't she see that?
Her blue eyes are blind, and his are seeing too much. She's too close and getting closer to the dreamboat again. His fists clench, and he can feel the anguishing tension in his throat as he holds back a cry. God damnit, he wants her. He wants her but she's advancing, and the space between her and that other asshole's lips is slowly closing.
He turns away. He's seen enough.
As he walks, he makes a vow. He vows on the stars overhead. On the sand beneath his feet. He whispers his promise to the ocean before him as he leaves Clare to someone else's lips. For now.
"One day I'm gonna steal your heart away."
I don't know how many of you remember me, but, uh. Miss me? (: