A/N - The story is branched off a short 5 sentence thing my friend wrote for one of her classes, I just filled it in. The title is Latin for Life is Short
Vita Brevis
A solitary tear slips down his cheek onto her calm, pale face. He bends down to kiss the girl's forehead, as he promised he would do, and he lingers for a moment, wondering.
She smells slightly of alcohol and smoke, and her face is streaked black with soot. Her hand lays limply upon the boy's shoulder and bright, red blood stains his clothes. He slowly removes what is left of the hand, and gently moves the body on the ground. He strokes the calloused, bony hands softly and arranges them so that they are on top of her chest, covering the ugly wound, already crusted with her blood.
He brushes away a piece of her scraggly hair and kisses her once more, another tear falling on the dirty forehead. He looks at this poor, ugly girl and feels pity in his heart. She is no angel, but yet she risked her life and took a bullet meant for him. For this he thanks her, and he is sure his Cosette will thank her as well.
He looks at the departed soul once more and cries softly.
He cries, though not for a newfound love. He cries……..because he never loved her.
A solitary tear slips down his cheek onto her calm, pale face. He bends down to kiss the girl's forehead, as he promised he would do, and he lingers for a moment, wondering.
She smells slightly of alcohol and smoke, and her face is streaked black with soot. Her hand lays limply upon the boy's shoulder and bright, red blood stains his clothes. He slowly removes what is left of the hand, and gently moves the body on the ground. He strokes the calloused, bony hands softly and arranges them so that they are on top of her chest, covering the ugly wound, already crusted with her blood.
He brushes away a piece of her scraggly hair and kisses her once more, another tear falling on the dirty forehead. He looks at this poor, ugly girl and feels pity in his heart. She is no angel, but yet she risked her life and took a bullet meant for him. For this he thanks her, and he is sure his Cosette will thank her as well.
He looks at the departed soul once more and cries softly.
He cries, though not for a newfound love. He cries……..because he never loved her.