The Moon Is Beautiful

Chapter 15

I gasp.

The moment it becomes hard to breathe, I rush out of the house, running. I'm not even sure where I am heading, but I soon find myself at the foot of the beach, at the bus stop.

My chest heaves up and down, and I fall to the ground, my hands splayed out on the cold hard ground in front of me. My hair falls into my face, hanging lifelessly over my shoulders. I bring my hand to my chest, clenching it in a fist and hitting it against my chest.

Sweat trickles down my forehead, even in this heat.

It takes a long while for me to calm down, the flutters lingering in my stomach still moments after the panic fades away. Releasing a breath, I shakily stand up, falling onto the bench as I let what just happened sink in.

I had a panic attack. I haven't had one in years. Years ago, when my dad died, I started suffering from anxiety, and along with the anxiety came panic attacks. It became so bad that I could only come out of that state by taking pills. I've come a long way since then and haven't felt the need to take any pills in such a long time. This hasn't happened, until now.

I'm not quite sure why I had the panic attack. Was it because of my uncertain future? Is my anxiety about my future really that bad that it causes me to have panic attacks? No, I should not think of it in a plural way. What I went through just now was merely one panic attack, and I don't plan on having any more.

Perhaps I should go and see my doctor again. She'll probably know what I should do.

Something landing on my cheek pulls me out of my thoughts. I touch my finger to my cheek and the substance melts into thd tip of my finger. And then I look up at the sky.

It's snowing.

I smile. I stand up and take a step forward so that I am directly under the snow and hold my hand out, allowing snowflakes to fall into my palm. The moment a snowflake touches my palm, it melts into my skin.

It's light snow, brushing my skin gently. I've always loved snow. I remember playing in the snow with my dad. He'd always let me throw him with snowballs, but never threw me back. He thought I was too gentle and fragile and that he could hurt me.

My gaze moves up to the sky. It's a clear night, stars sparkling in the sky with snow falling down from the clouds. I haven't been in the snow in a while.

Ever since my dad died, I haven't gone out in the snow at all. It hurt too much because he isn't there with me.

But just like all those years ago, the snow is still the most beautiful thing nature has provided us with, in my opinion.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" a voice says from beside me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I bring my gaze down from the sky and look to my side.

There's a man standing next to me. He isn't staring at me, but rather at the falling snow. My eyes on him must distract him as he brings his own gaze down and turns slightly to look at me.

My breath hitches. He's beautiful. The first thing I notice is his eyes, his crystal like eyes. They're so blue, like the deep sea, yet so light, like the snow falling onto us. His hair is jet black, snowflakes melting into the tips of his thick strands. His skin is pale, light freckles dusting his nose and cheeks.

He smiles, shaking the snow out of his hair. His hair looks like silk, splaying across his forehead and falling into his eyes. Two indents appear in his cheeks, making me suck in a breath. He has dimples. I've always had a weak spot for dimples.

I feel like swooning, but I manage to maintain my calm and cool composure.
He turns away from me and looks up again, the sight looking quite picturesque.