Her breathe replaced the carbon dioxide in the water with oxygen, her scales stirring the organic elements like a cocktail she breathed instead of drank (like the drunk she couldn't remember she was). Red had made her a drunk, a drunk with a scaled tail. His blue eyes resembled the cocktail she embraced reluctantly as her environment, as if it wasn't bad enough.
He ripped out her heart, crafted and crunched and cracked the bone structure of her dainty legs into a tail with one glance. You see, they had loved each other. Their hearts resonated the blue hue of their love, but for her she fell deeper (as she had into the waves) and her hearts colour had become as red as his locks. Her environment, however, relived that blue hue forevermore as he too fell into the ocean.
In his case, he had not became a being of the broken waves. He drowned instead, and in this, her green eyes cried.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Lavender
Short StoryDrowning is never a fun task when you can't have him in the purple waves. (Edit: If y'all end up super in love with this little assignment, I might end up writing a full on story about it.)
