Prompts: Fairytale, Riverbank.

Character/Pairing: Why don't you guess that?

Summary: It almost seems like a fairy tale, the way they lived.


our fairytale is played on bagpipes of melancholy


At the edge of a river, you hang your feet. The water is cool. The sun - except it isn't really the sun - is bright. The hills are rolling.

The landscape wishes it could be considered lonely. For you, it has surpassed the farthest reaches of desolation.

Music plays faintly in the distance. He likes the music. He is, in a sense, the music.

He isn't here with you,because he doesn't understand the quiet beauty of the scene. He doesn't understand the loneliness, he doesn't understand the nostalgia.

"Why torture yourself?" he asks, every day. "Why make it worse?"

No, he doesn't understand.


Time passes, although it doesn't seem like it. Old friends come and go, but they all fade from memory. Things do, here.

All that matters to you is the edge, where you can sit,a where you can feel profound.

It is a cage, a drug. You can't escape.


He walks up to you, as you sit there. He doesn't say anything.

The loneliness, it's still there.

Somehow, though, it seems to be better, as you watch the river meander. As you watch together.


"You don't belong here," he murmurs. But you do. You belonged here before you met your demise.

A leaf falls into the river.


It almost seems like a fairytale, the way you lived.


"It seems odd, that they put something as desolate as this, here, in paradise." Maybe it's your father's way of torturing you. You don't say it aloud, though.


He goes one day. You know he'll return, faster than a heartbeat.

The heartbeat, though, will seem like forever. The results are undeterminable at this time.

You don't care. Even if he forgets you, the memories of the days on the riverbank are locked in your heart.


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