The sight of her took my breath away.

My head spun in circles along with our bodies as we moved on the makeshift dance floor. I've never been one for dancing, but it was such a perfect moment. The moon peered down at us as we made use of the unlikely ballroom.

Making promises under the moonlight is something I've taken to doing lately. The pond sparkled brilliantly beside us. I closed my eyes to relish the moment and spun her gently, letting myself fall out of the dance, drift apart from her so I could see her come back to me.

Our music was the calm swirling of miniature whirlpools playing in the pond, the faint hoot of a nearby owl, the quiet noise made when the wind tousles the grass. This has always been our anthem, the music accompanying the brief moments we spent together.

I caught sight of the watch on my wrist and felt my heart sink in my chest. Glancing down at her beautiful eyes, creasing in a smile, I smiled back in spite of myself.

With the suavity that comes with the job, I spun her once more and slipped into the darkness, kept to the trees to watch her recognize that I was gone.

I moved silently to the bridge, past the farm sitting on the edge of town. I watched the windmills spinning round and realized how lonely our anthem sounded when she wasn't there.

I looked at the path before me and felt a burden on my heart when I thought that I would have to leave this way every night. It would be another whole day before I could see her again.

This was not how her love life was supposed to be. I would thrill and dazzle her with feats of stealth and endure scolding. I would accept when she made me promise not to steal from anyone else in the valley. But selfishness invaded me.

I knew that such a gem as her didn't pass by the other men unnoticed.

But they were good men. They worked. They didn't leave her.

They weren't me.

And it made me so jealous.

I took the first step onto the path when I heard the slightest movements behind me, a rustling of fabric. When I turned, she was there, holding her rucksack on one shoulder and extending a magnificent bluebird plume. The symbol of happiness, of love.

I wanted it.

Her happiness, her love.

I met her eyes and then turned my head.

"Are you gonna give your love to someone else?"

A/N: Writing from Skye's POV= O.o

I was listening to "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain, so listening to the words was like... yeah, I felt the need to write this in Skye's POV.

Ummm….. not much to say about this one. Did you notice the last line?

Please read and review. It would probably make Skye happy to know that you love him. 3