Written by: Fallen Light
There was a woman standing at the water's edge.
Emma, a childlike lady in the full bloom of youth, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the sapphire water with her sincere smoke-colored globes. Her cherry hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze, tickling against one cheek as she smiled to herself with anticipation, resting her cheek against one hand as she traced a finger along her silver necklace. She wore a ruby shirt that left her platinum, tinted with hazel, arms bare and leaden shorts that looked comfortable and easy to wear. Her locks flowed in a sanguine torrent past her shoulders, complementing her innocent light-colored, tinted with russet, visage. She stood, awaiting her love.
They had known each other since they were children. They had spent time together so often that, despite all differences, others often mistook them as siblings. However, it was not until recently that they had recognized their feelings for each other. From then on, she cared about him with every fiber of her being, but Noah switched from warmth to coldness in a flash, struggling with his inner anguish. But she loved him no matter how many times he pushed her away. That was how it was to this very day.
Almost instantly, guilt flashed across his face, but just as quickly his cold facade returned to hide it. He looked at her, the loveliness of her fire hair, the hint of sadness in her sincere crystals, and her beauty pierced Noah's heart with shame. Who was he, after all, to hurt such a creature? He was to her as a devil to an angel. He summoned the strength to confess, "No." Emma looked up at him with surprise. "Don't be... never mind."
I should be the one who's sorry, Noah thought to himself, but he couldn't work up the courage to say it.
Gently, she brought her hand toward his, whispering, "It's okay. I mess up a lot of things. Don't... don't worry for me." For a few moments they passed through another chilly silence. "Emma," Noah murmured at last. "I like these dates."
"Do you really?" she piped hopefully.
He was not really alive. And yet still Emma looked at him with such adoration. He was undeserving. "Yes," he muttered. "I like spending time with you." She beamed such a happy smile at him that he couldn't help but look away. "I admit it, all right? ... I hate it when you're sad."
Emma slipped her fingers into his curled hand and whispered, "I'm not so sad. I wish I could make you less sad. You're really hurting inside, I can feel it."
He accepted her touch and held her hand in his, saying nothing
Word count: 454
