Never Ending Tales

Storybook Lovers

Her hands trailed along the spines of tattered hard back covered books, her eyes searching for that one title. The one that had always been there for her through her times of losses, the book she clutched to her chest to keep his memory alive when all hope was lost. That book had kept her alive when when her hopes of him diminished, she loved him more than anything and that book kept her sane. Her eyes spotted the title, her lips curved up into a small smile and she gently picked the book up from its place wedged between two familiar titles.

The corners of the book jacket were splitting and colors had faded, she flipped through the tear stained pages with dog-eared corners and hugged it to her chest as if she could feel his strong, muscular arms wrapping themselves around her. Warm tears welled up in her eyes as his memory came to mind, lately she had been forgetting about him which broke her heart. She never wanted to forget the joy he brought her.

Her eyes skimmed the pages, memories coming back of all the ups and downs she had endured with him. She wished they could have the time they spent back together, for it was too short of time. If only she could rewind time to the beginning, back to the first time she saw that beautiful title sitting in the bookstore shelves waiting to be chosen.

She danced around her small purple-walled room, twirling as she held the book close to her heart imagining him coming out of the black inked pages. His warm thin lips on hers as his large hands play with her strawberry curls. His body heat radiating onto her filling her heart with a fuzzy warmness that only he can create.

Her body fell into a cozy deep white bean bag chair, the book still clutched tightly to her ever beating heart. She flipped it open to her favorite part, the part in which she fell in love with him...

...and there he stood, his dark brown hair glistened wet with curls stuck to his beautifully defined face. His tanned skin glowed in the sun, droplets of water dripping down his chest making my sore throat go parched.

"You hate me," I said, my voice was low and scratchy from gallons of chlorine I swallowed. It burned. I felt like claws had merciless scratched the insides of my throat raw, until the stinging chlorine took over the sharp pain with the utmost burning sensation that brought tears to my eyes, thankfully I was soaking wet. It was almost impossible to distinguish tears from water droplets.

"I do. I hate you more than anything." He said stepping closer to me, his naked chest pressed up against mine and he looked at me with a burning look of raw emotion. "You are rash, stubborn, bitchy, annoying, completely stupid and reckless." He paused as he breathed heavily, warm breath fanned my heated cheeks. "But... That doesn't stop me from loving you." He wiped a stray tear off my cheek, his warm touch sent my heart pounding in my chest.

"You..." Her fist swung at his exposed cheek with a loud smack! knocking him off balance. He stumbled back a few steps. "You hate me. You hate me! You HATE me! Now you love me..." Her voice gradually rose until it whispered the last few words.

"I've always loved you. Always, and I always will. I couldn't tell you, or anyone for that matter. You couldn't know, you shouldn't know. I'll hurt you." His large hand cupped my cheek, he traced his thumb over my lips. "I'm too bad for you beautiful, I'm too much to handle. I'll only break you." His lips met mine briefly before he was gone, and I was collapsed into the ground colder than ever...

Her eyes skimmed through the pages as the familiar feelings of love washed over her, she soaked up the words as her mind drifted away into a daydream..

***

His hand cupped my cheek, it was warm and rough like his heart. His hard gray eyes looked into my tender blue ones, we contrasted to much yet we were perfect together. His calloused thumb traced the soft flesh of my pink lips as his eyes stared at them with such an emotionless glare. I knew what he wanted.

I closed the small gap and brushed my lips against his, his were chapped and pricked against mine. Ignoring the small insignificant pain I pressed against him harder, our lips molded together in a pleasingly painful passion as the gap between our bodies became an airtight seal.

"Christopher," I mumbled against his lips, his warm breath fanned my face and I could smell his shampoo as if filled my senses.

"Acacia," he whispered my name, it sounded beautiful coming from his lips. His heart pounded against my chest, I could feel the accelerated beat as it matched mine perfectly. Our hearts beat together, pressed up against one another as I leaned up on my tip toes. Our foreheads rested against each other, we gazed into the opposites eyes our noses barely touching. Moments like these he is not Christopher Mathews the cold hearted guy with a sharp tongue, he is my beautiful Chrissy.

"I wish moments like these would last forever," I said smiling, my nose rubbed against his in a warm Eskimo kiss. I felt his hands on my chest... pushing me away from him.

"They can't," he said. His voice was hard. "I'm too rough, hard. I'm cold." His eyes said different, he wanted his just as much as I did.

"You saved me Christopher, no cold hearted bastard would save me like that. You dived into the pool with your phone in your pocket like a dumb ass and lifted me onto your back." My voice lowered. "I didn't even have time to drown before I was being lifted out of the water. You love me Christopher, and I love you. Why can't we just be together?! No one would care, no world would implode. It would just make two people in love very happy."

"I'll never be fucking happy Acacia! Can't you just see that? You're too good for me. You deserve someone better, someone happier. You need someone else!" He looked enraged, his face was flushed an angry red. His lips were scowled and his eyes, his eyes lost the familiar look of passion and were replaced by so much pain. "What we have, whatever ever we had is over Acacia. Over." It was like a reply in my head. Over. Over. Over. Over...

***

"No, it can't be over!" Acacia yelled as she came back to reality, she looked around at the deep purple walls, her fuzzy white carpet, the large dark oak door leading the unknown territory of the outside of her room. She leaned back into the bean bag chair, her head resting on her twin sized bed. Her eyes scanned the book shelf in front of her, she saw the missing spot from where the book she held once laid.

Her lips curved up in a smile, she looked down at the beautiful worn down cover of the book. Cold. It was written in bold black ink at the top. I never wanted you to see the screwed up side of me, was written in italics below it. The cover was dark blue with a silhouette of a girl crumpled to the ground, a boy standing beside her, the corners of the book were a frosty white.

The cover was simple and well designed; it was not anything special or eye catching which is what she loved most about the cover. It was not complex or flashy, it was just Cold.

Christopher was just that too: Cold. He loved the main character, the character Acacia wishes to be. He is completely mysterious, it was never said why he was so cold leaving her to guess he was just born with a stoic personality. He had a tender side that showed only around the main character, he did love her but his hard side kept him pushed away. It may have phased the main character, she may have given up on Christopher, but Acacia would never.