Author's Note: Not my usual cup of tea, but the urge to write this overcame me and so I did.
She was the fire, he was the wind; wherever he went, she burned brightest.
His touch, though, set her heart aflame in ways she never knew possible - in ways that she knew no man should ever be able to do. Each kiss and smile she sent his way blew apart all his expectations of the future, and let him live in the fact that the now was a fresh gust of love.
The green of his eyes met the dirt-brown that would nurse them back to full health in his highs and lows. She felt that he was the life that seemed so absent in her early years. The force of happy and sad and all the bottled up desire for the world that she had kept at bay, until she was able to explore him.
I love you, they said to each other - through their eyes and through their hands, their laughs and their cries. When his arms circled her, she knew that her shaking was okay, she knew that the tears were accepted, and that her sorrows would slowly fade. She knew that her grins and chuckles would make his hold lighten and keep her close.
Even when he walked away, she knew he was going to come back. He promised. His kiss told her so. Even if he could not look her in the eye, she knew that it was alright. Everything might not be fine. In fact, she knew it would not. But her watery smile looked back at her in that lonely, battered vanity in the corner of her room. Behind closed doors, she knew that everyone unlocked the floodgates and let out their monsters in the closet. I love you, she repeated.
The next time they met, he was afraid. He trembled worse than before. He shook with fear, and she could not figure out what was wrong. His touch was frantic, and they had only an hour alone together. They cried together as they held one another. As her eyes began to close, she swore she saw his smile turn sad. She did not hear him declare his love back. She tried to frown, but she collapsed against the sheets.
When she woke with a gasp, he was gone. She screamed in the quiet of the room. Why, she whimpered. She whispered his name three times. A note in his chicken-scrawl was left by her bedside, only a word of rushed ink and heavy emotion. She rushed to dress herself. She left the premise of the castle, following the footsteps and the thundering of the crowd, wondering where they were heading, only hoping that she would find him there.
Time paused, and for the first time since she met him, there was no guiding wind, no prolific enlightening of passions or promise. His body was cold, she knew. It was missing her touch. His body was still. Its features were soft. His eyes were closed. It kept quiet, a small smile she could barely make out from the distance.
He never even told her Goodbye. He had only apologized.
After everything was over, she was hoping that her dreams would come to pass. But there were no dreams on the field that day. None that were living. Only broken hearts, words, and delusions.
She was the fire, and he was the wind. He was gone now. She could feel herself folding in, losing all the will she mustered together to see the end of his wishes.
I love you.