The thorn of flowers
The soft summer breeze spreads across the grassy plains as we bask in the sun. Far-off, horrid screams can be heard...the suffering. Poor souls caught up in the turbulent storm of human pride, their blood wafting in the wind. Unpleasant as it is...he is beside me.
I shift softly as I watch him from the corner of my eyes; the face I’ve known for twenty-two years. My unruly straight hair sways in the wind and covers my peripheral, within a brief moment it crosses my corner-eyed view of him, but through the coffee-brown strands of my hair, I can see a smile form on the corner of his lips.
He’s happy that I came, but he won’t admit it...I can’t admit it. I stare at his slender physique...his twenty-two-year-old body rages with timid muscles that press against his clothes...almost bursting from behind them. I fall and plop onto him, much like a pebble pushed ashore by the mighty currents of the sea. I want to feel his thin muscles around me.
I hear him grunt softly from my abrupt action, but then I feel his hand caressing the back of my neck, the strands of hair part slowly with each swing of his fingers.
His skin touches mine.
I can’t control my awkwardness and attempt to punch his inner thigh. At this moment my aim fails me in response to his touch, and I end up punching him in his crotch.
He screams louder than before while laughing in pain. I laugh along and roll off of him, onto the bare grass.
After that laughing and rolling marathon, I end up laying on my side on the grass facing him, my head near his thigh. I stare at the patch of silver among the blackness of his hair, the patch is located on the front left side of his head.
I look to the curls dangling before his silver eyes and meet his gaze. My face slowly goes red as his lips move slowly…“Do you love me?”
I can only stare at him as my face reddens, even more, and my throat tightens up until I can hardly breathe.
He extends his hand to me, and before I know it...I am holding it. A gentle but strong tug pulls me towards him and I am now atop him, almost in a straddling position. The full details of his face are evermore clearer. The paleness of his skin compliments the silver of his eyes, while the sharp edges of his face make him seem otherworldly.
"Yes," I say, no longer being able to hold back my desires as I have been doing so for my whole life…
My family celebrating.
His family? All dead.
I am his family now. I am his only family. Now.
It seemed like yesterday that happiness was on the cusp of the horizon.
I won’t let it go. No matter what.