A Whisper

Chapter 11

He carries me to a grassy, smooth spot in the front yard. After he sets me down, he wraps his jacket around me. The smell of him is suffocating, but in a good way. It's not like I can't breathe, but rather that it tightens its grip on me, promising to keep me safe. Lying under the stars with my Prince is the best feeling ever. Nothing could compare. We sit in silence for what seems like an eternity. I caught his casual glance at me. He would grin every time he'd look at me, and back at the night sky. He did this several times until I asked why he was looking at me. "I don't notice the difference." "Between what?" I ask. He takes my head in his hands and directs me to the sky. "That," as he points up and resumes, "and you." Are you comparing me to the stars? I am nothing like the shattered stardust in the darkness. Van Gogh captured the starry night with passion and beauty, and I am far from both aspects. No, my eyes don't sparkle like the blue lights above. "I'm sorry, I'm nothing like them." He looks disappointed. "Yes, you are. You are looking down like the angel I know you are. You come into this life I attempted living in, and you have touched the deepest parts that I never thought I had. You are my shining star, guiding my heart." Oh, but stars are in reality a large ball of fire burning up, and they'll lose their light. Even the stars are dying, and I guess I am like them. I am speechless. So I lay down. Might as well fall into unconsciousness on my own rather than my body shutting down thanks to an attack.