to be or not to be » stefan salvatore

chapter twenty four: pry open the red world.

'Do you suppose the sun gets lonely?' she asked thoughtfully, 'because he spends all his life stretching out both arms, but no one can ever hold him. He could smile every day for five billion years and no person would ever look long enough to fall in love.'

'But we need his light, so we say, 'the sun is important', but come night we fall in love with the moon. Because who would touch something and take the risk of getting burnt? Who would love something that hurts?'

She twisted her head around to gaze up at him, slim fingers tangled with his, as her head leaned gently against his chest.

Sparkling forest green hues gazed back at her, a hum leaving his lips as he mused softly, 'I believe the sun is never lonely. He always has the stars and the moon to watch over him and we do too, even when we can't see him. Besides, we'd rather our love burn than it to be cold.'

Turning her head again to look back at the sky, she couldn't help but let a hesitant sigh pass her lips.

His hand tightened around hers, 'What's wrong?'

'This isn't real, is it?' She whispered softly, but she didn't move her frame or untangle herself from his embrace.

Unfortunately, the boy had to ruin the moment, because he did sit up straighter and forced her to look up at him.

'Why would you say that?' There was anguish in his voice and hurt in his eyes.

A part of her couldn't help but feel guilty, but she knew that he wasn't really hurt by her words, just as much as she knew that all of this wasn't real.

'Because you're merely a hallucination conquered up by my mind, seeing there is a silver dagger plunged in my heart.'

He shook his head, a frown playing with handsome features, 'What are you talking about? This isn't a hallucination. If it was, would you be able to feel this?'

His face moved closer to hers and his lips brushed against the edge of her jaw, causing a shudder to shoot down her spine.

'How about this?' He inquired, hand moving to cup the back of her head, before pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips.

Her lashes fluttered as she leaned into his touch, she pressed her hands to his chest, savored the feeling of his lips.

'And this?' This time his lips brushed against hers and they were kissing. It was soft and gentle and raw.

He pulled back, locked their eyes together, before asking, 'Do you still think this isn't real?'

She wanted to say that this was the most real thing she ever experienced in her entire life. That he felt like home and that his kisses made her feel alive.

But she knew that if she did, she would be lying.

She didn't want to lie to him, he didn't deserve it, even though he had done the same thing to her a million times before.

'I know it isn't.'

He scooted backs, untangled himself from her and looked away. He looked like she just shot a bullet through his heart.

'I'm sorry,' She whispered, before she stood up, skirt flaring out around her as she choked back tears, 'I'm sorry.'

Turning around, she ran.

She ran, she ran, she ran.

Her shoulders were shaking. Her breath was stuck in her throat. She didn't hear any protests drifting through the wind.

Stumbling into the line of trees, she ignored the stinging of her feet, the pine needles and broken sticks pressing into her bare soles.

She ran until she couldn't anymore. She ran until she was out of breath and until the treetops waved over her head, blocking the sun from shining in. She ran until she broke and fell and sobbed on the dirt ground of the forest.