Disclaimer: Neither Will nor Lyra is mine. If they were, I wouldn't be
putting this here, now would I?
She is so near to me this summer day. So near and yet so far away; what lies between us is no thicker than the film of a soap bubble that could burst with one careless touch of a finger, sending rainbow-brilliant flashes into the air.
But I can not stretch my hand through the mist that separates us. What once parted with the ease of a warm blade slicing through a stick of butter might as well be made of diamonds now, hard and unforgiving. You see, we are separated by the very fabric of reality. A universe divides and unites us.
I sit here and I stare at the wall between us, knowing that she is on the other side, waiting for me as I am waiting for her. It has been so long, and yet I can still see her hair, like liquid sunshine, and her laughing eyes.
I can imagine what she would look like now. The laughter in her eyes would be a little wiser- a little less brashness, more gentle understanding. But behind that façade, a spark of amusement would still dance, in remembrance of the old days when we stood back to back against all the forces heaven could array against us. My Lyra.
I did it of my own free will. I broke the knife, and even the shards are lost to me now. Could I even repair it if I still had them? Would I even want to do such a thing? I can not say. I fear to imagine what my answer would be if I had to make the choice again.
I wonder some days, when life grows too weary for the both of us, and we stream out of the lands of the dead, what will await us? I remember what you said to me, that horrible day I was forced to seal your dear face away from me forever.
Find me there. I will find you.
She is so near to me this summer day. So near and yet so far away; what lies between us is no thicker than the film of a soap bubble that could burst with one careless touch of a finger, sending rainbow-brilliant flashes into the air.
But I can not stretch my hand through the mist that separates us. What once parted with the ease of a warm blade slicing through a stick of butter might as well be made of diamonds now, hard and unforgiving. You see, we are separated by the very fabric of reality. A universe divides and unites us.
I sit here and I stare at the wall between us, knowing that she is on the other side, waiting for me as I am waiting for her. It has been so long, and yet I can still see her hair, like liquid sunshine, and her laughing eyes.
I can imagine what she would look like now. The laughter in her eyes would be a little wiser- a little less brashness, more gentle understanding. But behind that façade, a spark of amusement would still dance, in remembrance of the old days when we stood back to back against all the forces heaven could array against us. My Lyra.
I did it of my own free will. I broke the knife, and even the shards are lost to me now. Could I even repair it if I still had them? Would I even want to do such a thing? I can not say. I fear to imagine what my answer would be if I had to make the choice again.
I wonder some days, when life grows too weary for the both of us, and we stream out of the lands of the dead, what will await us? I remember what you said to me, that horrible day I was forced to seal your dear face away from me forever.
Find me there. I will find you.