I'd had human friends, of course, though admittedly not many. I tended to keep my distance. My kind live so much longer—human lives passed in the blink of an eye in comparison. And that made falling in love with him such bittersweet agony. I knew that, even if he loved me as I loved him, the time would come when he would grow old and die, and I would be left with nothing but the memories and shadows of his existence.
**************
"Margaret!" I jumped slightly as I heard my name called, and recognizing the voice, I blushed with joy.
"Oh, Piers! It's so nice to see you so bright and early this morning. What a lovely start to the day!" I called out as he strode down Airship Way towards me.
As an artist, I had a keen appreciation of beauty. And Piers was beauty. It seems so strange, even now, to describe a man as beautiful, yet he was. Silky, fair hair just barely brushing his shoulders, perfectly proportioned, lean and strong without big, bulging muscles, and those eyes—those lilac eyes, unlike any I'd ever seen before or since. You could sink into them, like falling into velvet cushions at the end of a long, tiring day, and if you weren't careful, you'd never want to leave.
I had not been careful.
"Working on a new song?" he asked as he stood close to me, glancing at my ever-present Elvish harp.
"N-no, not exactly... I mean, I'm...." Oh, gods, why did I always sound like a babbling idiot when talking to him? I took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm just looking for some inspiration, that's all."
"Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I'll be on my way—I don't want to interrupt genius at work! I hope you find your inspiration soon!"
"W-wait! M-maybe you could help? I mean... w-what kind of song do you think I should write?" I held my breath, waiting to hear his voice again.
He looked towards the distant horizon, tapping his chin as he thought. "Hmmm. I think you should write a joyful song. Something uplifting and lively."
"Perfect!" I said, exhaling at last. He smiled and turned to leave, and desperate to grasp even just a few more moments with him, to hear even just one more word from him, I blurted out, "I-if you aren't busy, perhaps we could go somewhere? T-together, I mean?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, but I already have plans today," he said, with genuine regret in his eyes, and my heart sank at his words yet soared with the knowledge that he truly seemed sorry not to be able to spend time with me.
As he left, I watched him go, striding down the hill towards the blacksmith's shop, and I knew I had found enough inspiration to last a lifetime—even one as long as mine.
