Snowflakes

The boy that promised me he'd never stop loving. Never leave. Never forget.

But he was the boy that couldn't keep a promise. The boy that stopped loving. That left. That forgot.

And it was all my fault.

+++++

December 24th, 2015 - 1:04 pm

I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar sterile scent, "Ian, I want to tell you a story."

I sneak a glance at him before wrestling with my hair, throwing it up into some type of bun. Even in the hospital bed, he still manages to maintain his godly aura, disheveled hair and all.

He nods slowly; his green eyes are distant as they focus on the wall across from him.

"It started two years ago."

+++++

December 24th, 2013 - 9:03 pm

The snow outside blankets our small sleepy town. The car's headlights cast dancing shadows around us.

"Are we there yet?"

I could never stand long car rides.

"Almost." I smile at his response as he rests his hand on my thigh. His full concentration is trained on the winding road. It's a rare sign of affection from him; I relish every second.

I press my face against the cool window watching the occasional blur of Christmas lights.

The car ignition stops abruptly and he walks over to help me out, covering my eyes.

"Trust me, okay?"

I nod eagerly, smiling like an idiot as I stumble out of the car. The frosty air instantly bites at me and sends a chill down my spine.

He gently guides me through the foliage before whispering, "Okay, now open."

Removing his hand, a vast scene of city lights is revealed. The little dots strewn out amongst the town below us paint a clear reflection of night sky above.

"Woah." I breathe out. We were on a cliff. A very tall cliff.

Shoving his hands in his pockets he begins to rock on his heels, "It's beautiful isn't it." He exhales, his breath illuminated by the car's headlights before evaporating into the dark abyss.

"Gorgeous." I agree, still awestruck by the view.

"Aspen."

"Yeah?"

"I like you."

His chest presses against my back as his hands snake around my waste, finding my hands and taking them into his. Butterflies erupt and I can feel my heart drumming loudly in my ears.

I stiffen as he lowers his head and closes the gap between us. His lips just brush my neck as he mumbles, "I like you. I really fucking like you Aspen."

"Well this is a bit cliché," I laugh awkwardly avoiding an answer, "The bad boy and nerdy ol' me in a romantic spot looking over the city. This happens in like all the books and-"

"Well, we can write our own cliché story together?" He raises an eyebrow as his lips pull into a familiar smirk.