Meaningful Trivialities.

And it has ended.

 

Examining the rose, in a manner similar to a botanist, she frowned. There was this odd sort of emotion springing into life inside of her. It was smothered out by reason for no matter how fantastical the situation seemed at the moment she would always be a sensible girl. She placed the dying rose back on the nightstand whilst searching out her window for whoever the culprit may be. She found nothing and no one. The eeriness of what had happened sent chills down her spine. Her mind perceived her chill as a temperature problem so she shut the window, her intuition screaming for her to look closer. She never was one to pick instinct over logic.

 

The stars twinkled magically underneath the full moon with the velvet folds of the night sky cradling it gently helped by the lulling rock of the wind as it whispered a soft tune. The innocence of it all impossible to destroy. Unless you’re human, that is. He is the ghost for tonight, happily haunting her in the most romantic way he knows. He watches as she handles the rose, wishing that he could be that dying flower being held so tenderly. Turning away on his heel he journeys toward nowhere in particular, plagued by the image of her smiling face.

 

Their worlds were colliding violently. Each day he passed by her, transfixed with her retreating form. Each night she waited for him to arrive only to be taken away before she could see him at last. Their want for each other slowly growing with each passing week.

Her smiling face forever burdens him, since he knows that if he were ever to be found out they would never be able to be together. She would be repelled by the thought, of the sheer blasphemy of it all. He traipses through the woods mumbling poetry to the creatures hiding away. Who could free this melancholic soul from this bittersweet romance? No. Romances require an actual meeting, this is just a soul reaching for another.

She tired of this masquerade, forever wishing to be with her highwayman. At first she worried of the person he may be but she did not care. His roses, as trivial and clichéd as they are, charmed her heart and soul. There were times when she would scan wherever she was as if he was there. She always felt him nearby, such a treacherous feeling to have to go through. Her happiness waned dramatically for she would no longer be content unless he revealed himself and yet she refused to tell the others this reason. No one knew who she really was and no one ever would. Except for her unexplainable love. 

 

The day was filled with misfortunate glee, as it was the day of Valentine’s eve. Their school was abuzz with such lovely excitement that the two star crossed lovers were sent into a mood that only Pandora could counter. On this fateful day he felt it was finally time to free himself from that burden, that secret, he held onto for much longer than necessary. He waited patiently beside her locker, a small box hidden in his palm and a rose handled carefully in the other. He ignored the intrusive noise that surrounded him; gossip spreading like wildfire the moment they spotted his patient figure upon her locker. She walked with her friends, silent and introverted, as they chattered endlessly about nonsense that mattered not to her for she was above this mindless dribble. Disturbingly solemn, she sighed heavily before diverting her blank gaze to the lockers. Their eyes met. Her heart stopped. She eyed him, the rose in his hand eerily similar to the ones she had been receiving for a month now. The chattering voices around them ceased as they held each other’s eyes, overflowing with relief and hope.

Something finally broke, her eyes released a stream that held a thousand sorrows as if razorblade butterflies had lain their beautifully tragic wings upon her delicate heart. She ran away from him and her friends, unsure of what do with the situation at hand. There he was, watching her retreating figure once more. This was exactly what he feared so he discarded of the gifts he brought for her, sprinting off like a lion in chase of his prey. He caught her in his vice-like grip only to tumble to the ground. He knew that this would end badly so he ensured that she was safely on top of him before they landed, with a sickly thud, sliding across the freshly waxed floors. He collided with the wall adjacent to the lockers, bruising the back of his head, though it mattered not for she was safe in his arms. In the aftermath, she sobbed onto his crumpled form, his hands running through her dark locks wishing to be of some comfort. To further the atmosphere of serenity, he began to hum the song he made for her, slowly easing the lyrics into her ear after she quieted down. The masterpiece sent chills down her spine, not those of fright but of excitement given that happiness was all she felt in being with her admirer. They laid on the floor, in a most compromising although implicitly accidental position against the wall, taking great pleasure in finally gaining that ever elusive awareness of true contentment.