a/n: I didn't write this with a particular male character in mind, so that's why his name is never mentioned in this piece. Hope you enjoy it!


18.7.11
italian chocolate
lucyocrose
globe, skyline & villa

It's the casual half-turn of his head, elegant cheekbones stark against the blackness of the night, that entrances her. The russet, tousled hair, waving just past his ears. The silverblue sheen of his eyes as they glow in the starlight. The pout of his lips as he says, "Hey, Luce, want to see something amazing?" The way his fingers fit perfectly in the gaps of hers, filling up the empty space where her heart should maybe be.

It's the way he'll never be hers (chocolate brown and red, tangled in a haze of fate; freckles and smooth skin blending into one; two hands reaching to the skyline and wishing — wondering) because he'll always belong to Rose, bright as a flower with sunbeams trapped in her hair. He can tell Lucy all the stories he can about his villa in Italy and how he's going to travel the world one day — one finger absently spinning the sepia toned globe on his bedroom floor, a casual, half-hopeful grin on his face as he tells her about the adventures he's never going to have — but she knows he tells the more dramatic, exaggerated versions to her cousin.

She fades into the skyline years later, a blur, a passing fancy, disappearing into the sunset like she's always belonged there. She never crosses his mind again.