A/N This idea came to me recently from a poem that I wrote. Love it, hate it, review. I want to know what you think. Enjoy!
I don't own WOWP
The Moon
The cold air wrapped around his clammy body like a refreshing blanket. The moon was his familiar nightlight as he settled down on the bench out on the balcony of the loft.
He stared out at the endless city lights and thought of all the other people out there in this city, and in the world, until inevitably his mind drifted back to just one person.
That one person, that one girl, that one reason that he was out here, feeling like an insomniac, instead of getting his healthy eight hours of sleep.
He had dreamt about her again. He had had another wonderful, amazing, terrible dream in which she was the star. His brain told him once again that it was wrong, that he was wrong, but his heart disagreed, as it always did. They fought it out as usual, and his brain always won.
He had to listen to his mind and his reasoning. If he let his heart guide him, he knew rational thinking would go out the window.
He contemplated the scene before him, welcoming the goose bumps forming on as his skin like an old friend. It was true that the night air had a cold grip, but it was familiar to him, and he accepted the sting.
The padding of soft feet broke him from his thoughts and he turned around to a sight that his subconscious imagination could never capture properly. Her raven curls embraced her neck and back in a way that made him envious and though her liquorice coloured eyes were drowsy with sleep, they retained their usual bright curiosity. The blue tank top she was wearing with her pyjama bottoms allowed a generous amount of her porcelain skin to shine delicately in the moonlight.
"Are you becoming a vampire now too, Justin, staying up late to howl at the moon?" She asked groggily as she settled down beside him on the bench.
"I think you mean werewolves, Alex." He chuckled. "I think the Van Heusen's would be offended if they heard you say that they howled at the moon."
She rolled her eyes and brought her knees up to her chest. "I guess you're the monster expert, you've dated all of them, after all." She smirked.
He could think of one little raven-haired monster he hadn't dated, but he obviously wasn't going to mention that.
"I'd actually think that you would be the monster expert Alex, considering..." He trailed off, raising an eyebrow at her.
She gave him a puzzled and slightly suspicious look. "Considering what?"
"Considering that you are one." He smirked. She punched his arm, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed her punching hand in his own. She looked taken aback for a second, but didn't pull her hand away.
"So, you couldn't sleep?" She asked softly. He risked a look over at her and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.
She looked so perfect. She was a doll, a work of art, a masterpiece. He looked up at the sky again and the moon's former beauty seemed to pale in comparison now.
"No. You couldn't either?" He asked, in an equally gentle tone. She shook her head no, and then rested it on his chest. His heart and his brain had their monotonous argument, as everything in his heart screamed at him how right this felt, while everything in his brain screamed at him how wrong it should feel.
"It's a full moon." She remarked. "It's pretty."
He noticed how the moon's light only seemed beautiful when it was shining on her, making her smooth skin glow. However, his brain still had a little bit of control, so he did not say that aloud.
"That's true." He replied instead, still watching her the entire time. He noticed the skin of her arms had risen in goose bumps from the cold night air and quickly wrapped his own arm around her, protecting her from his old companion; the chill of night. She moved closer to him and lifted her head up so they were eye-to-eye.
"Thanks, I was cold." She mumbled. He nodded in response, trying to stare at her inconspicuously.
He wished his logic would stop telling him that this was wrong, unnatural; because everything else was telling him how right it was.
She noticed him staring at her and gave him a puzzled look.
"What are you staring at?" She asked.
His heart took over complete control.
"You."
The roses in her cheeks bloomed in the moonlight. A miracle.
"Why?"
"Because it's impossible to tear my eyes away." He replied sincerely.
And as their lips met in the pale light, it just then occurred to him that with all of the lights of the city they should not have been able to see the moon at all.
He realized that the most beautiful things never make sense.
REVIEW PLEASE