Of Flying Feathers And Elusive Fireflies

And it had been flawed, and cursed, and unfair, and it hurt like hell, but if anyone should ever ask her if they'd been happy, she would answer in a blink of an eye that yes, they had.
Because they were.
And it was painful and it hurts to remember, and she hadn't seen the blue of his eyes in anyone's since he left her, and she couldn't remember the sound of his laugh anymore, nor the tone of his voice, but she remembered his touch on her skin, and the taste of his lips.
And it was enough.
And they were happy.
But they were also cursed.
So they ended, like every beautiful thing is supposed to end: suddenly.