Monochrome Boundaries [1/1]
Posted: Thu Aug 31, 2006 7:42 pm
<B>Monochrome Boundaries</B>
By Andrea
Rated PG
Romance
<i>Standard Disclaimers Apply</i>
<b>Author?s Notes:</b> This one?s for Melodrama.
<b>Warnings:</b> Not proofread.
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The sun had set by the time he made his way to the window; the orange orb nothing more than a mere memory of shimmering ocean lines and fading dreams. The night was ablaze in light, the moon with her borrowed light, hung off the sky like a huge silver charm, casting her hypnotic spell over the dark lands at her mercy. It was as if in a moment of insanity, He had messed up and scattered the night with millions of brilliant stars, chaos and splendor harmonized, titillating, iridescent, an exquisite revolution.
And oh, he was mesmerized; it seemed as if it was his very first time gazing at the fascinating beauty of that ebony canvas, daring and mysterious, eternal in its depth, limited in its darkness. He counted and recounted, pointing whichever way his heart chose, his mind following a second later, trying to calculate its infinity, its ravaging secret, so ancient they defied reason.
It was that same dark sky, so mischievous, their accomplice during those fateful meetings where they would meet under these very same stars to share, to understand, to simply gaze at each other. It was under this very same night, where he held her hand for the first time, where she allowed him to touch her hair and watch it shimmer under the blazing moonbeams. Under this sky, covered in its inky secret, she told him she loved him, where she allowed him to love her completely and without shame.
Night lovers, runaways of light, as they hid during the day under false pretenses of princess and protector, days where he would stand in his everlasting shadow and she would remain in her eternal light. During the days, with the sun blazing high in the sky, with curious stares of devotion and admiration cast at her, hidden looks of fear and doubt sent his way?yes, during these days, he stands hidden in shadows, his vow to her heightened by his unwavering will, fueled with the promise that by night he would be allowed into her light without fear of regret, that with the dying of the powerful sun, she would come to him and be his.
At night, all pretenses were tucked away, left behind with the peers who worshipped her?she would become again an ordinary woman, a woman allowed to laugh and sing in time with the ocean?s waves, an ordinary woman allowed to love a not-so-ordinary man, a woman left free to just be herself in the comfort of his arms.
Every night, a new memory would surface, a new memory they would treasure during the days. A memory of sand between their naked toes, a memory of drenched skirt hems and lilting laughter, a memory of dark blue eyes alight with happiness, a memory of a hardened face, broken up and set free.
A gorgeous memory? So unique in its simplicity? When he allows her to take his hand in hers for no purpose at all? Just for the single reason that she could.
He looks up at her?his head resting on her soft legs, her wheat-colored tresses surrounding him in a curtain of light?her smile is assuring and comforting at the same time. And he knows, he knows it without really knowing how, without wanting to understand why, that someday he will be allowed into her days, into her life, the same way he has let her into his night and into his heart.
The End.
By Andrea
Rated PG
Romance
<i>Standard Disclaimers Apply</i>
<b>Author?s Notes:</b> This one?s for Melodrama.
<b>Warnings:</b> Not proofread.
*
*
*
The sun had set by the time he made his way to the window; the orange orb nothing more than a mere memory of shimmering ocean lines and fading dreams. The night was ablaze in light, the moon with her borrowed light, hung off the sky like a huge silver charm, casting her hypnotic spell over the dark lands at her mercy. It was as if in a moment of insanity, He had messed up and scattered the night with millions of brilliant stars, chaos and splendor harmonized, titillating, iridescent, an exquisite revolution.
And oh, he was mesmerized; it seemed as if it was his very first time gazing at the fascinating beauty of that ebony canvas, daring and mysterious, eternal in its depth, limited in its darkness. He counted and recounted, pointing whichever way his heart chose, his mind following a second later, trying to calculate its infinity, its ravaging secret, so ancient they defied reason.
It was that same dark sky, so mischievous, their accomplice during those fateful meetings where they would meet under these very same stars to share, to understand, to simply gaze at each other. It was under this very same night, where he held her hand for the first time, where she allowed him to touch her hair and watch it shimmer under the blazing moonbeams. Under this sky, covered in its inky secret, she told him she loved him, where she allowed him to love her completely and without shame.
Night lovers, runaways of light, as they hid during the day under false pretenses of princess and protector, days where he would stand in his everlasting shadow and she would remain in her eternal light. During the days, with the sun blazing high in the sky, with curious stares of devotion and admiration cast at her, hidden looks of fear and doubt sent his way?yes, during these days, he stands hidden in shadows, his vow to her heightened by his unwavering will, fueled with the promise that by night he would be allowed into her light without fear of regret, that with the dying of the powerful sun, she would come to him and be his.
At night, all pretenses were tucked away, left behind with the peers who worshipped her?she would become again an ordinary woman, a woman allowed to laugh and sing in time with the ocean?s waves, an ordinary woman allowed to love a not-so-ordinary man, a woman left free to just be herself in the comfort of his arms.
Every night, a new memory would surface, a new memory they would treasure during the days. A memory of sand between their naked toes, a memory of drenched skirt hems and lilting laughter, a memory of dark blue eyes alight with happiness, a memory of a hardened face, broken up and set free.
A gorgeous memory? So unique in its simplicity? When he allows her to take his hand in hers for no purpose at all? Just for the single reason that she could.
He looks up at her?his head resting on her soft legs, her wheat-colored tresses surrounding him in a curtain of light?her smile is assuring and comforting at the same time. And he knows, he knows it without really knowing how, without wanting to understand why, that someday he will be allowed into her days, into her life, the same way he has let her into his night and into his heart.
The End.
When the comes that I need to write a love letter, I'm coming to you. Definitely 
