The winds in the sky cut the air like an out of sync lullaby, blowing the grass in various directions as if lost in thought and searching for answers. She sat with her auric hair over her shoulders one second, and then flowing with the air current in the next. Her Grecian dress beat like a child trying to flee her body as the wind blew in and out of it, trying to make her rise but she would not stand. A beeping noise reverberated from the depths of the forest, the sound always there, and at a steady rhythm…
Her hands folded in her lap and the sky, an odd purple complimented by cream-colored clouds, contrasted starkly with the saddened expression in her eyes and lips. She couldn't explain what it was about this world that gave her such a pain in her chest, a pain that spread to every vein, pulsed like a disease with no bounds and one goal, to break her entirely, mind, body, and spirit.
It was not in her nature to give in, somewhere, somehow she knew there was something, a reason to get up. But she couldn't see it or hear it; she couldn't feel it. There was an essence missing, a scent of what she loved, the touch of safety she longed for. Her hands moved to touch it, although there was nothing in front of her, and she sighed, near the brink of defeat for what she could not put into words. In the recess of her mind, she sensed she was a warrior at one time, her arm drawing back, her breath on the edge of a sharp bow, and then... release. She was the goddess of the hunt, the namesake of the moon, in every sense she was to be feared in her strong will and determination. What would the others say now, as she sat in her prayer, waiting?
"Forgive me." He was at her side, his hand on hers. It was in one instant, as if he had run elegantly to her side without ever touching the ground. He let his coat fall over the strands of green, his feet tucked under him, and his ears listening quietly for their song. She wasn't startled by his presence, no not surprised, but relieved, complete in a way even though she had no idea who he was. He was the boy with red hair, a dash of freckles and green eyes of mischief and sincerity.
"Who are you?" she asked, tightening her hand on his, she missed it.
"The scientist." He answered, leaning in to kiss her cheek, his lips tasting the salt of the tears, those that had streamed from her face as she agonized over when it was the time to move. The time was now, they both knew it, his white coat blowing back and he helped her up, twirling her around.
"I'm sorry." He said as he pulled her close, the rain pouring down from the violet sky. He found her beautiful in the sunlight. As soon as he stopped to admire her, it began to pour; the water droplets fell on her olive skin and hair. He couldn't find her more lovely and whispered so to her. She grinned, a tired smile as she struggled to hold on to him, her shoulders falling and her chest contouring into his. In an instant, he had his arm under her legs, the other at her shoulder, carrying her through the rain.
In the next moment, the pair was out of the valley, and into a mountain path with sunflowers the same shade of yellow that her hair had. The hue of the clouds a soft orange, the cloud going gray like her eyes, glossed over, red lines running at the ends of her pupils.
"Ask me your questions," He said as he carried her through the dirt, growing darker with each passing minute as the lightning hit the sky like a frantic dancer looking for its partner, bruising the sky in cracks that faded in flashes, they matched the beep from earlier, except it quickened its pace now that she felt him.
The light so vivid on her face, as if meant for her, she clutched his coat at the sound of rolling thunder, and he looked down in awe, illuminated as she was, so brilliantly, he fell in love all over again.
"I don't know if I could love a scientist." She said as they passed the soaked rocks that built the mountain, his steps closely matching her heartbeat.
"Tell me why." He said as the road of the mountain ended in an ocean, the sea beckoning them both, a green lighter than his eyes, as if made of turquoise.
"Science is the bane of belief, what more do I have but hope… science says that's illogical." He walked to the water, the wind having returned, the rain having come tenfold, her legs kicked out to feel it fully in his arms.
"Maybe, a scientist can believe too." They were in the water now, the waves coming over their bodies, the water warm despite the rain. The ocean embraced them, enveloped them below. And then his grip was lost, she began to float away, her hair its own entity as was her dress, swarming about her limbs like a net. He reached for her, finding his voice now that the air was gone. She laughed as he murmured to her; it was not a law of science, to speak under water.
"What do you believe in?" She said with her hands on his once again, the lines of their palms connected again formed a map, a map that he once said meant nothing, but she called it fate. It was their dance, she not a dreamer or a romantic, not even an optimist, but she had this one belief. She could never really love the fool who didn't believe in the impossibilities, not fully, not completely. Yet she fell for him.
For his part, he was a boy of puzzles and figures. His forte was the symbols in equations, the solutions that lie from the hours of testing his hypothesis, and in every action was the desperation to prove his theory. Upon meeting her there were no explanations, there was no foundation to speculate on. There was only a girl with golden hair and the eyes of the moon, like craters that his green wished to fill. It was the pathos his inept mind failed to feel, the convoluted path he never traveled, the façade that was never a mask; it was he who never understood. All the science in the universe would not tell the truths of ones heart.
"I believe…" He paused and the beep had ceased. He's body thrashed in the water, his hands frantic, he's face coated in panic and fury. He grabbed her torso, pulling her closely to him, the ellipse in his speech was the hesitation of her death, and to revive her he knew there could only be certainty.
With her skin growing pale, the light of her eyes dissolving into the ocean, he held her chin, leaning forward and kissing her lips, the pressure between two skins, the words of his tongue on the motion, I need you, I set you apart, let's go back to the start.
Hey beautiful, wake up.
"Wally?" She opened her eyes, the walls white, the air smelling as though it were sterilized, her skin covered in goosebumps, the hair elevated from the chill coming from the window. She looked out to see the stars and sky, and at her side was a machine, lines going up and down, and an irritating beeping noise pretending to by her heart.
"You're awake." He choked out the words, tears on his cheeks, red as if blushing. She touched them, her fingers becoming wet.
"What took you so long?" He laughed, her voice was groggy and with the natural rasp her words came out more like a croak. Still, the aggressive tone was not to be missed. He kissed her forehead, both pushing their fingers to intertwine them.
"I'm an idiot remember?" He shrugged his shoulders because it was a fact. He'd waited too long to come see her, so afraid of emotions, feelings, to see her laying in all the cuts and bruises, the broken bones, but the moment he stepped inside to see her laying on the hospital bed, there was only the self-loathing for having taken so long to see the love of his life… his soul mate.
What's a soul to a non-believer? He thought it over and it took him all of five seconds to come up with an answer. A soul is the accumulation of an infinite amount of catharses evoked once a person met what a scientist couldn't explain.
He settled down next to her, her head nestled on his neck, it was strange, he didn't smell like food and that worried her, he hadn't eaten in some time.
"I had a dream about you." She knew how guilty he felt. A few years back she'd yell at him for it and reveal in it because he had kept her waiting, he made her think he wouldn't come, that he wouldn't be here. He could run anywhere in the world and he wasn't at her side. Her sleeping become longer, and there were times where doctors whispered of her condition, jotting down to the taps of pens against a clipboard.
Is she comatose?
None of that mattered, he was here now and for that she couldn't be angry, she doesn't have it in her to be upset, not really.
"You did?" He asked turning his head into her, his left hand in her hair, the other still holding her own.
"Yes, you saved me." Then all was quiet, no more words needed to be said. With all the days he'd run in circles, second guessing himself and all her abrasive insults, his banter back, her scoffs… there was always this stillness in moments like these where they remembered why they loved each other. It couldn't be defined or explained. It was denied by some, admired by others but there was one fact the scientist knew, their love belonged to them and that was that.