Snow White

Chapter 31

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Snow White was sharing a tent with Harry, who was too civil to share a bed with his fiancé before their wedding day, despite the fact that she shared a bed with Peter whom she'd only met a few hours earlier. Like Snow herself, Harry couldn't get the person he loved. Like her, he was lying so close to the one he loved the most, only a treehouse away, but it felt like more than distance between them.

It was his love, with the sweet sound that rings diligently in her ears, that saved a wretch like her. It was his love that found her alone, blinded by heart ache and pain. His love taught her how to fear, the taunting dream of merely a few weeks ago still haunts her every sleeping hour, but it was his love that relieved her pain. His love was so precious the hour Snow first knew that she loved him back. And now it was gone.

Through pain, remorse, mourning, guilt and imprisonment Snow had already came, but his love had brought her safe thus far and his love will guide her back to him.

One day, tomorrow or in a centuary, Snow will die. Her heart will dissolve like snow and her eyes will refrain from shining. But, one way or another, her heart will always sing of him.

Her legs swung out of the bed, unable to contemplate this anymore. Unable to look upon Harry's eyes, humbled by his mercy and broken inside. He stayed by her, not loving anyone but her until the end. But Snow didn't love him back. The only person Snow knew she could trust more than anyone was Peter. She knew that they would stand by one another until the bitter sweet ending when Snow knew that she would die.

The cold rush was harsh on her toes, sweeping through every grove of her skin and between each toe. She shivered, but gently placed each foot on the ground and beamed. She had never felt free when she was in the prison. Home was where the beauty was.

Padding across the tent, Snow ignored the stinging pain of the early winter chills on her feet, rubbing into the sores and feeling like needles injecting themselves into her flesh with every step. But Snow ignored the pain.

A pang of guilt surged through her as she realised Harry was honest, true, polite and faithful and she was the opposite. Nothing short of death could've prevented her marriage to Harry, and Peter knew this. Peter knew that Harry needed an heir and it was inevitable that Snow would be its mother. What Peter didn't know is that part of Snow loved him. Not head-over-heels in love, like with Peter, just bitter, remorseful, guilty love. And Snow wronged Peter for loving Harry.

Filling the kettle with stone cold water and placing it on the fire, Snow wished she could've told him. She wished there was some way to tell him that she would much prefer it if he fell in love once more. So Peter could be happy. So Snow could be free. But he would never let her go.

'Snow?' Jack whispered from her left, his gentle voice rang through her ears and Snow gasped slightly, then regretted her sharp intake of freezing cold breath. She spun around, giving him a small smile.

'Yes.' Snow replied bluntly.

'I need to talk to you.' He said slowly, choosing his words with fastidious care, but there was something edgy about the way he spoke. Snow swallowed the urge to gulp and nodded, before he lowered his voice to say, 'Alone.'

Confused, Snow ambled out into the dense forest and walked. They walked until they stood facing one another in the woods, leaning against snow dusted trees and both of them waiting for the other to speak. It was a comfortable, lesser awkward experience to their usual private conversations. Snow was just grateful to have such a caring friend.