Don't Wait

"She loves me, she loves me not,”

White petals drifted in the gentle breeze, taking them to who knows where. The pure innocence of the color soon surrounded and scattered around the boy.

“She loves me, she loves me not,” he continued to mumble to himself. His mind was in some sort of ease because he was thinking of her. He loved her for all her errors and problems. It never mattered to him. He loved her no matter her flaws. He stared at the grass and continued his pointless game, “ she-“

 “ Paine? What are you doing?'

The boy turned around, “Paris…” he smiled at her.

Paris looked at him confused. That was something she did often now. She usually understood everything that was in her way  but there were certain aspects which she could not comprehend . She could not understand how he was almost always there to rid her out of her problems. Why he would always seem to gaze at her from afar. How he promised her that she would protect her from the world, no matter the situation.  Paris , however, thought that Paine had feelings of admiration for her ; but she had not come to the conclusion that he would love her. After all, who would love her?

Paris Blair.

She was a prideful girl. Of course this would happen because she was brought up by a prestigious family. Though, she lived a life of pressure and expectations, she put  on a mask. The mask was graceful, beautiful, respectable and appreciable. But to Paris, beneath was sheer horror and huge amount of insecurities.

A bit out of character for her, did it not? Out of her character to think such thoughts about herself? A little, but has anyone tried to put themselves in her shoes? Wouldn’t you feel insecure not having anyone to confide in for so long? Her entire life, she grew up told that she was beyond all expectations , the perfect child, beautiful, marvelous, the list would go on and on.  Upon hearing such courteous words spoken , she started to grow sick of it and soon started to think they were all lies.

 And then…..someone put themselves in her shoes. Paine . He thought of her and accepted her. Paine would admit that the first time that he had ever laid eyes on her, he felt infatuation, but this evolved into something more than what the average person would ever come to know.

One time, the Blair household held a Ball. Quickly becoming the jewel at her party in her gorgeous dress and accessories, she resided at an empty table, reserved for herself. Paris examined the room, searching for the two beings she was closest with. To her dismay, one was unable to attend the event but she spotted the other. And it was no surprise that he was eating.

She sighed with a small smile residing on her face. ‘Of course he’s the first at the food table….’ she thought.

 Paine made his way to the girl,  a plate towering with food held in his hands and took the empty seat behind her. “ Paris, why are you-“

His words were soon drowned by the music that filled the room. It was slow, casual music. Both Paris and Paine watched as pairs and couples started to walk onto the dance floor in the middle of the room. Paine blushed as a certain thought came to mind. Paris eyed him, clearly noticing his blush.

 “ Who is it?”

 He snapped out of his small trance from the thoughts he had before, and locked eyes with Paris. “ I’m sorry, Paris, what do you mean?”

“ Who is it you always pick flower petals for? I see you do it almost every day, sitting on the hill, picking petals from flowers and saying  ‘she loves me, she loves me not.’ Who are you fond of? If I can ask.”

 “ Oh. You see me do that every day? I thought it was only that one time….” He said, remembering how Paris found him doing it several weeks ago.

Paris nodded while he blushed madly, and avoided this question by abruptly standing up, about to do what his thoughts were on a few minutes ago. “ P-Paris,” he started feeling the blush burn on his cheeks, “ will  you d-dance with me?” He extended his arms out to the girl.

 She stared at it ,unable to think what to do, but then noticed something underneath the cuff his right sleeve. It was white and she reached above his hand to his cuff. She pinched the small object and realized it was paper thin but also very delicate. Pulling it out in a split-second, it slipped from her fingers and a flower petal made its way to the floor.

The pure white oval laid on the carpet, it’s innocent color contrasting against the inky black of the mat. Paris reached down and picked it up. “ You spend a lot of time picking the petals, too,” she said with a small smile. “ It fell to the floor like a white droplet.”

 Paine returned those rare smiles that he received from her and it caused his heart to hammer against his rib cage. “ Well?” He offered again, sticking out his hand for her to take.

She slipped her hand in his, ignoring the blush that covered the boy. “ Of course.”

“ She loves me, she loves me not.”

A young man stood straight picking white petals from a flower. Watching each one fall to the grass, he thought, ‘ white droplets, huh?’

After picking the last one, he watched it as it fell in the center of  black granite. “ She loves me…” He said quietly, a pained smile painted on his face. He choked back the unwanted tears. “ I guess I would really never know if you ever did, right?”

His hands traced the engraved letters on the granite, a tear crashing against the  shiny surface.

                                                             Beloved Daughter,

                                                                   Paris Blair

                                            B. January 7, 1984 D. August 24, 2013