note: more abstract, more time-stamping. references to edward/bella but ultimately about jacob and bella. post-new moon. also previously posted at sophiste [at] lj.
we are a prelude of romantic gestures
a romantic egoist
• •
this was how it ended, you see: a flurry of four-leaf clovers and miniature daisies – the kind where the petals are endless with rosy highlights that look perfect braided into hair on a lovely summer day. and then there were the legs, awkwardly bent, like they collided in hurried action. surrounded by trees and effervescent light, they were nonexistent in an existent world (see nothing else but them theory).
and how it started:
you going now?
she shrugged, shifting her weight on the ground. they sat together on the side of the road, twigs and autumn leaves beneath them, staring across the street where the trees sharply caved inward, some beyond that loomed in the distance (versus the three inches of space between them). what was the difference, really? a couple of meters forward, and she had silver lined eternity in her hands. and what was that, compared to gold?
(gold: see synonym, life)
dryly, he'll eat you alive.
she glanced at him before breaking into laughter. but, deep down, she wasn't sure if it was that funny. he cocked a brow, leaning towards his left side to get a better look at her. amusement, he remarked. enlighten me.
a sigh.
i think that's the whole point.
what? what does enlightenment have to do with– oh. he scowled. yeah, bells. not funny.
sorry. you should lighten up.
and you should reconsider, he snapped. he breathed loudly and rubbed the nape of his neck with his free hand. there was a tight knot there, the kind that often settled in the pit of his stomach when he was too close (too aware, too sensitive). after a long pause, he mumbled, i'm sorry.
no, you're not.
he shifted and turned to glare at her. i said–
she shook her head, holding a hand up to stop him. i don't want you to be.
(between the lines, demand that i stay)
birds. there were too many surrounded them, celebrating the rarity of a cool, sunny day. and maybe it was instinct, or maybe he didn't know what else to say. most likely, most likely. and maybe he would regret this later, but he couldn't talk. that would be his excuse: you can hate me later; i can't speak when i'm around you.
a small scuffle, hands, legs, weight shifting, strangled breaths, stunned wings. too dizzy, heart beating rapidly, can't breathe, can't move; static.
(eternity can wait)