She's So Lovely

She’s so lovely.

He thought it late at night, for his mind always wandered when he worked on his beauty. It was a dangerous thing because he would be fine one moment and the next his hands are shaking and wires and springs are falling through his fingers. The gadgets hit the ground with soft chimes, rolling around his feet. He curses his name and squeezes his eyes shut, palms pressing against them. But he has to open them again because all he could see is her short skirt and her wicked grin. As he leaned over to pick up the fallen pieces, he wondered what she’ll wear tomorrow.

She’s so lovely.

It’s a quiet morning, near the start of their adventures. She’s looking at him from one end of the console, firing questions about the galaxies and planets and stars. She’s quick, walking around to meet him, all while brushing over knobs and levers. She must have painted her nails last night because today they’re a midnight blue, his favorite color of the sky. He’s taking it like a challenge and tries to look busier than her, shuffling around and pressing buttons that light up. But she’s winning because he can barely answer a question fast enough before she’s onto the next. When he does manages to answer one, she smiles so wide that it hurts her cheeks. She’s looking at him too earnestly, as if she doesn’t doubt anything he says. Her faith feels like the weight of the world, and he wonders if this is how Atlas lives. She is just so modest and a tiny bit sexy. Under the glow of his home, he sees her as an angel. He really, really, doesn’t want her to fall.

She’s so lovely.

He’s at her place for once, waiting for her to get ready. When she scarfs a breakfast bar her damp hair is leaving droplets of water around the collar of her shirt. He can hear traffic going by below them, and it’s so loud and foreign to him but she doesn’t seem to notice. He wonders if his home is too quiet for her. Maybe she prefers her cramped flat. A flat that has stacks of old newspapers in the hall and an elevator that’s out of order. But even if it’s a dingy old place, she’s decorated and it looks like the most interesting museum. The radio is on, music is playing, but he only notices when he hears the words isn’t she lovely come from the speakers. And he’s looking her way, like he always is, and he almost agrees out loud.

She’s so lovely.

A vile monster has its claws around her neck, drawing blood. The monster is putting the words against her skin, right there, as if taunting him. But he can’t focus on that now, now he’s got to get her out of this mess because it’s all his fault. He tells her to keep her eyes on him and she follows his order without the usual complaint. He can smell iron and something strong like a warning. Then he realizes just how scared she is, because she’s crying, watching him and her lips are moving. He guesses she’s praying, but he couldn’t be sure. She’s never prayed before. Never had a reason for it, she said once. It feels like there’s sand in his mouth when he watches the single bead of blood go down her neck. But he can’t let himself sink that low yet. It’s his job to get her to safety. He wonders how he’ll manage that, because he’s cradling his arm to his chest, and he has a limp, and the side of his face feels sticky. His vision is splotchy like an artist’s overalls and he can hear her crying harder. I’m so, so, so, sorry, he says. The monster laughs, and he needs to sit down for a moment.

The monster’s downfall happens as a surprise. A door is busted down with a gusto and soon his friends that don’t need him but love him and charging at the monster. It didn’t stand a chance against the force of the good. She’s let go as the monster crumbles, and she throws herself onto him because her knees are wobbly and he will catch her. As they all leave the scene, she’s saying something against his neck, but it only sounds like something she said once in a dream.

She’s so lovely.

His clothes are still smoking from the explosion and his arm is bleeding, wrapped in the fabric of her pink skirt that’s now four inches shorter because of him. While she’s resting, he’s waiting for his friends to say something about her. He’s so nervous to hear their thoughts because he doesn’t have any other friends whose opinions mattered so much, all three of them. So when he’s staring at them expectantly, they say she’s so lovely because…well, she is. It doesn’t take a genius to think it, it’s right there in your face when you meet her, they say. How brave she is, just like you, they say. She smells just like Christmas and her smile is beautiful, they say. At the good news he claps, rubbing his hands together. He doesn’t know why he’s so happy, and his friends don’t think they should be the ones to tell him.

She’s so lovely.

The two of them are dancing under the stars. It was her idea, pestering him until he looked away from the comet they traveled to see. She put her hand in his and for once he knew what to do next. The absence of music doesn’t bother them so much; they fill it with mindless chatter. A breeze picks up and he flips the lapels of his jacket up, and she allows herself to bring her face closer to his chest. Stars stretch out beyond them but all he can see is the girl right there. Her eyes shine like the rarest diamonds that belong in the darkest caves. She’s glowing tonight, though. Her nose is tinted pink and her grip on him is strong. He cups her cheek, something he likes to do, and looks down at her. He stares at her quietly, suddenly serious and she’s smiling back at him. He thinks he sees tears in her eyes, and he wonders if she already knew.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading! Please please give me any comment, anything you think about the story. All of it makes me smile :)

Reviews

[Jayme]

wow this really was such a lovley and interesting read Thankyou for sharing :)