Trouble In Love

Prolouge

There she was.

Blanketed with daisies; from the very top of her neck, to the very bottom of the heel of her leathered boots. She had a flower crown. Even as a corpse, she was beautiful.

She was lying on the stone bed that looked as if any second from now, it would crumble.

I touched her cold skin and my tears had, too. I stroked her beautiful brown hair that reached all the way down to her shoulder. No one could ever make short hair look as beautiful, as she did.

And her lips. I touched her lips. I wanted nothing more than to have a last taste of her lips.

Then, I saw her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes. Souless and lifeless, but they still managed to see right through me. I closed her eyes, I couldn't manage to see them for one more second.

She still had the arrow wound that was shot throught the heart.

She might have been struck with an arrow and had a hole as a scar.

But I was the one left with a hole inside me.

I love you, I whispered.

I took out the rose I gave her, the first day we met and a laid it in between her hands. Her cold, dead hands.

I left. I looked back at the small stone building covered with vines and flowers.

She was never a big fan of fancy, she was never a big fan of pretty. But it was ironic that she was surrounded by it.

There she was.

Perfect and still.

Perfect and dead.

But that's what you get when you fall in love with trouble.