There she sat, glowing in the light of the lowering sun, arms crossed over her legs, knees almost up to her chin, her long golden-blonde hair flying along with the wind's current, cascading over her shoulders.
She was sat high up on the roof, watching the beautiful scene unfold.
I slowly brought myself down to sit beside her, mimicking her position, and placing my hands behind me to support my weight.
I clicked my tongue and slowly turned to face her. She sat perfectly still as I spoke.
"You talk often about dreams"
"What forbids you from making them real?"
I stared off into the distance, expectantly, with only a thousand questions blurring my mind.
I watched as her amber eyes met the golden clouds, gazing mindlessly at them for what seemed like hours. The hue casted by the sun's reflection made her amber eyes a glowing gold.
More precious than any real gold.
I had never seen anything like it.
It fascinated me.
I took in her beauty.
She remained stationary, unable to un-fixate her eyes from the setting sun.
And then she spoke.
Fleeing so sickly sweet from the curves of her bruised lips.
Something ever so small, so soft, so fragile, so impossible, yet, somehow, forever tainting my soul.
"Nightmares."
Suddenly, nothing else mattered in the world.
YOU ARE READING
White Blood
RomanceThe White Blood's are extinct - at least, they're supposed to be. Why is it that the only cure for a Prince's failing heart is something that no longer exists? Could it be that the cure was right in front of him all along? A tied rope, a list of d...
