Forever trapped in winter
Johnny looked down at the sleeping beauty in his arms. He was amazed that she had even taken two glances at him, let alone let him in to her bed. He was happy. Jac rustled in the bed, and Johnny manoeuvred himself to make her more comfortable. He then thought he heard her utter a word 'Joseph', it sounded like. He didn't know anyone called Joseph and to his knowledge neither did Jac. He put it to the back of his mind. Jac was his. That was all that mattered. Little did Johnny know.
Jac was like a flower trapped on a winter's day, wilted, hidden, broken and lifeless, waiting for her spring to come. Her spring would make her beautiful, she would be loved. She loved her spring, but she was trapped, forever, waiting for a spring that she knew would almost never come. She had her autumn at the moment, sometimes the autumn could make her beautiful but also she could feel lifeless and broken. She was content at the moment, with her autumn.
Johnny snuggled down next to Jac and, like every time he looked at her, he was shocked by her beauty. Jac was different to the girls her usually went for; she was fiercely independent and had a right temper on her. Still he had gotten Jac, and he was happy, and so was she. Johnny wasn't to know.
Jac thought back to the last time her spring came, it had been after one of the harshest winter's she had ever experienced, but spring had made her feel warm, safe, loved. She had been happy. She would always be happy with her spring. But then spring went and she was back in winter, after one on the best springs in her life. She missed her spring.
Johnny waited for Jac to wake up, to start shouting at him, but when she did wake from her slumber, Johnny could see tears in her eyes. "What's wrong?" Johnny asked. She just shook her head. "I just had a dream, that's all." With a shake of his shoulders Johnny lied down.
Jac would wait forever for her spring. She had waited a long time before for her spring to come, and it had, but this time she knew it was different, because her autumn had come. Her summer had come before, but never her autumn. She would never be happy without her spring, but the autumn made her feel content. She noticed as he first flakes of snow drifted down and she realised there was hope. One day her spring will come, one day her man will come, one day Joseph Byrne will come.
Hope it's not too confusing and rubbish, I just couldn't get this idea out of my head.