Once I saw her, I couldn't get her out of my mind.
Her hair was a pale shade of amaranth, falling in a cascade of iridescent curls down her back. Pulled away from either side of her perfectly-shaped face, her delicate features were completely exposed, revealing her vulnerable expression. Then there was her white skin, her warm eyes. She looked so soft, so beautiful. She looked as though she were constantly getting ready to ask a question. Even an immaculately crafted doll could not be as lovely as her.
But like a doll she was to me. Never to touch, only to look at and admire. And I did admire her. Every damn day.
"I'm not doing very well today, so the store is closed..." she said as she made her way through the living-room of the old, wooden farm house to greet me. A weak fire cracked in the fireplace even though it was well into spring.
"I'm sorry," she muttered when I didn't respond. I nodded immediately but she continued explaining herself, "I would have Rick help you, but he and Popuri just rushed off..." Her slender hands toyed nervously with her apron and I felt bad for making her uncomfortable.
"That's fine. I'll stop by another time," I finally said as I backed towards the door, "I hope you feel better. Do you need anything before I go?"
Then, she looked up at me, that ever-questioning expression that made me want to do anything for her. She could have asked me to show her the Harvest Sprites, and I would have never thought twice about it.
"...no...I'm okay...thank you," her voice quivered and her eye-lids fluttered in an unsettling way just before her knees buckled, causing her frail frame to become limp like a rag-doll. I lurched forward, catching her as she fell, my hands clutching her in a manner that would not have been acceptable under different circumstances. Her small neck looked like it might break as her hair poured onto the floor, her lips slightly parted as I laid her down.
"What are you doing?"
My heart began beating again as the stern voice sounded behind me. It was Rick, her son, and behind him was his sister, Popuri, both their faces smeared with fear as they witnessed the scene.
"MOM!" Popuri's voice was shrill as her eyes widened, her face hidden behind her hands. Rick rushed over, placing his hand over his mother's mouth to detect her breath.
"She's okay, Pope, my Goddess stop screaming..." his cool demeanor alarmed me, "help me get her on the couch."
I complied without question, careful not to touch her in an inappropriate way. It was a one-man job though, for she was disturbingly light. Her daughter came forward, clasping the pale hands within her rosy ones and staring at her with a face eerily similar in shape. I imagined Popuri looked just as her mother would have twenty years ago. Beautiful.
Was it my fate in life to lust after things that I could never have?
"You look like you're doing well today," I said one bright summer day as I passed by the Poultry Farm on my way into town. After learning about her sickness, I found myself constantly analyzing her for any sign that might give insight as to how she was feeling. That day, her cheeks were flushed as the hens pecked around her tiny feet.
"That's because I am!" she exclaimed in a tone still as light as a feather, the skin near her bright eyes creasing ever so slightly from the smile she wore, "Rod wrote me a letter! It was a short letter, but I'm just happy knowing he's alright. Do you want to hear what he wrote?"
I didn't want to hear. But I couldn't deny her.
" 'Dear Lillia, how are Popuri and Rick? I am fine. I'm writing from a vast desert, where the search for the flower to cure you has led me. I am confident I will find it soon, so please do not give up hope. Take care of the store. All my love, Your Husband.' Isn't it wonderful?" I nodded in agreement, for it was wonderful to see her so happy.
"Pft, easy for him to say," replied Rick as he passed her with two buckets of chicken feed. The smile briefly left her face as she considered her son's words.
"Oh, I'm sure he seems so terrible to you two, but he isn't. Really he isn't! He is just doing what he thinks is best for me," her hands gripped the letter tightly as she put it back into the pocket of her apron, "though I do wish he would come home..."
The days became longer and the evenings grew warmer with singing cicadas and glowing fireflies.
She sat by the Goddess pond, the silvery light reflecting off of the water and onto her lovely features as tears streamed down her ivory cheeks.
"I just don't know what to do," she said between soft sniffles, her delicate hand wiping away her tears. I dared not touch her. She wasn't mine to touch.
"It will all work out, Popuri. In the meantime, you've just gotta be patient with your family and try not to argue with them." She kept her gaze focused on the water, her mind on something—someone—very far away.
"They don't think he loves me. But I know he loves me. He said he loves me. And he wrote to me all fall and winter, and most of spring."
I held my tongue, not letting the doubt in my mind escape into hers. Who was I to take away her hope? It was selfish to say what I thought. I thought that Kai had left her, was with another woman, and strung her along all year so he'd have someone for his summers spent in Mineral Town. But I didn't say that. Instead, I put my arm around her small shoulders to show that I cared without over stepping any boundaries. Much to my surprise she leaned her head on my chest and fell into my embrace.
"...you're the sweetest," she was so close that I could smell her hair, a heady scent of roses and candied apples. Despite our closeness, I remained calm, and kept my hand loose around her. "My mom thinks you're sweet too. When we fight about Kai, she tells me I should be with you instead because you are better than him. But I just think she wants me to be with you because I would live right next door. Sometimes, though, I think that too. I think that you're better than him...even though I know that's bad..."
My breath caught somewhere between my tight lips and my racing heart. What could I say? What should I say?
She arched her neck so that her face was looking up at me from her spot in my chest. Goddess, her eyes were so big and bright and beautiful and full of all the hope in the world and all I could do was stare at her and silently wonder how a mere mortal like me could be relevant to such an angelic creature. Before I could muster up the courage to speak, she kissed me. A light, hurried peck that could have went unnoticed had my eyes not been opened to witness it. She giggled innocently.
"Don't tell Kai."
I didn't tell Kai.
And somehow, my life had gone from really mundane to a really big mess. A big, beautiful fucking mess.
"Have you seen Popuri?" The question echoed through the late summer sky as it melted into darkness.
"If mom or my brother come by asking for me, please don't tell them where I am! I'm only telling you in case something happens and I can't make it back tomorrow, I don't want the whole town to go searching for me. Thank you for listening to all my problems."
"Yes." She sighed with relief.
"Is she okay?" I nodded, then broke my promise and told her where Popuri was.
The breeze surged and swirled the fireflies up into the stars emerging in the purple sky.
"Are you okay?" I asked her after a considerable amount of silence. She seemed startled by the question.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I keep coming here and asking you about Popuri all the time. She just won't tell me anything, all we do is argue..." her eyes looked tired and maybe even a little puffy from crying, "I'm sorry." A smile emerged on my lips and in my eyes as I looked down at her.
"You didn't answer my question: are you okay?" In a sudden burst of emotion, she began to cry, her face hidden in the palms of her hands. I held her and let her cry into my chest as the summer wind gushed past our entangled forms. My hands began to move up her back, into her hair, onto her skin... and her sobs became muffled whimpers as our lips met. She tasted warm and sweet, like tea with honey. Her hands cupped by cheeks softly.
"Jack..."
Hearing my name come from her mouth caused my heart to skip a beat, and she pulled herself closer into me. How could love emerge in the heart so innocent and pure, yet be so sinful when acted upon? All I wanted was to make her happy. Was it wrong, then, if being with me made her happy?
Bright summer skies faded into the trees, all the color emanating now in their leaves as autumn gripped the land.
One evening, as I was washing up after work, I heard a faint rustling outside my door. I opened it and found her there, kneeling down to place the glass milk bottles gently onto the porch. She reared back, startled by my presence, the bottles falling over and clanking together loudly as they aimlessly fell into one another.
"I'm sorry! I was just on my way to the hot spring and I wanted to return these to you... thank you so much for giving me so much fresh milk. It has really made me feel stronger..." The wheat colored shawl draped over her small shoulders shuddered from the cool, autumn breeze.
Uncovered, her bare shoulders were submerged in the healing waters, the air around her balmy and full of life. We both looked up at the thousands of stars above us, entranced for a fleeting moment by their enduring nature. But like us, the stars would die too. They would live the entirety of their lives bright and glowing, becoming the brightest just before they died.
Our bodies met, separated only by the thin sheets of crystal water that ran between us. She held onto me, as if I were the only thing not spinning in the universe. But we were spinning, fast and reckless and out of control, but neither of us could tell because we were both spinning together and that shit is relative.