One Bright Day


One Bright Day, there were two people, a Boy and a Girl, in the whole world. Two people, side by side but still very much alone.

And on that One Bright Day, They wandered about with an aimlessness, a nonchalance that ridiculed the thought- the very idea!- that They were lonely.

There were hills and plains and the golden sun glancing merrily off the waves, and They visited, and then They left.

Never there, They were, like a lingering sense that something had existed there, but that the existence's significance was so tiny, so lost in the grand scheme of life that They were lost and drowning.

Even if They were the only two people alive.

Oh, They had origins on how they got there, rich and vivacious and eloquent, personal lore and belief scattered amidst the complex beauty if their tales. They had lengthy lives and adventure and romance and such, described in detail by nature, if not by the remnants of Themselves.

But They just…moved, without pretense or preamble, without a glance into Their storybook pasts, all neatly written and illuminated and beckoning.

The Girl might murmur something very low and monotonous but nonetheless comforting, if low and monotonous represents comfort to you, as it was for the Boy.

She might say, in that soft rolling husky voice of Hers, "Look. It's going to rain, tonight."

The appropriate response to such an epiphany might be a brief nodding shrug of agreement, a small quirk of thin lips that represents a smile, enigmatic and odd. Which is what the Boy would do.

And They would walk on, still very alone as if They, each in Their own head, really were the last person on earth.

The Boy often commented, with His voice's timbre a low rumble of the sort that filled you to the brim and made you sigh a little, something like "The trees are beautiful in the fall."

They would then stop and stare at the trees with expressions of bemusement and wonder, except that They would not be feeling bemusement or wonder but a subtle sort of interest and the very predominant sense that They were very alone.

But still, the trees were very beautiful.

Of course, They moved on, as if They had an agenda and somewhere to go rather than to be walking in isolation side by side and looking at fauna and commenting on the weather.

They didn't, naturally.

There was more beauty and more absent minded notes that the ocean froth looked something like clouds and that the temperature was mild but murky and that the sun appeared to be setting quickly.

Night spilled into the sky soon after like a sealed envelope, a consistent navy of sorts. Then the moon, a luminous orb that spilled phosphorous light and adorned everything with mercury linings, dancing silhouettes across a dark stage. The stars appeared, winking and shining silver buttons set deep into velvet.

The Boy and the Girl then climbed a soft green hill and sat perched at the top and listened to the utter silence, Their breaths inaudible and Their soft racing hearts overwhelmed and forced into oblivion.

Time stopped.

Together, the solitary Boy and the solitary Girl stopped. They did not live.

They did not exist.

And then, that brief magical moment of relativity slipped away, and They are.

There is no more of the unity that nonexistence brings.

The Boy turns to the Girl, a faint smile tracing his lips like a secret.

He bends down towards Her ear, the heady scent of knowledge evident.

"Love," he says as they get up.

Together, Raven and Garth make their way to Titans' Tower.


Smirkedy Smirk. This came to me, and I just had to write it. Everything in this story is intentional unless it's like a gigantic spelling mistake. In which case, shame on me. And yes, it also makes sense. It has a plot that's shouldn't but ULTRA subtle, but that's just me. Mainly, I wrote it because I like the idea of romance without physicality and the sense of childishness and melancholy I tried to put in this.