Disclaimer: own nothing of lost. If I do, Sayid will come out way more.
Author's Note: I start to write this as on that day I got off the school early and was waiting for the bus by myself, as there is refill handy and I suddenly got this random as idea, I decided to do some writing. Obviously, Sayid is my favorite character, and I actually really like him being with Shannon. By the way, this story have strong religious views so if these kind of stuff offend you, please don't read it. Yes, I know that there are tons of mistakes, I suck at typing, hence why I always write my stories onto paper. And I still don't get grammars…
Whenever he could spare his eyes, he would always rest them on her. Maybe she was aware of the love and pleading that mingled with his sorrowful gaze, or maybe she was honestly staring into the vacancy of the ocean.
He found it so ironic that he, skilled and trained in interpreting feelings and emotions, could not read any of these expressions in her lovely eyes. Once, these large eyes were the reflection of her heart's despair and love, the only traitor to her emotions.
Her hair was loose and the wind tossed one or two strands into the air. He recalled the many times he had wrapped a lock around his finger, her hair was the colour of midnight but unlike his, it was only slightly curly. Her skin had always been the shade of a healthy tan, the olive skin was now a bit darker, but still paler then his skin.
Her eyes…once so bright, they had been the colour of a rich mocha and he was fond of teasing her by saying her eyes were like coffee, "as I immediately lose all drowsiness just by taking a single glance." But the richness of the colour had been smothered by despair, robbing their shininess away.
She was still in the blue dress, and he desperately wished that she would change it. The dress was no longer the reminder of how they had walked happily on the beach, it was now the symbol of her breakdown.
"Will you never forgive me, Minta?" he whispered brokenly.
"Sayid!" Jack called out, eager to start the trip to the water supplies.
"I am coming," Sayid replied, tearing his eyes away from her. The flower he had picked for her this morning was still in her unmoving hands, the petals lightly brushing the wedding ring. The only hopeful sign was her necklace, the golden cross was still pressing against her throat.
"What must I do?" he asked himself, now in despair.