~written in purple gel pen on the bus back from my girlfriend’s~
Love is orange:
A frill of Clementine peel
Falling to the ground.
My thumb orbits a freckle.
Words become keepsakes
In the setting amber air.
The dawn rushes from her fingertips;
Her eyelashes bloom
In the light.
The room- transforming
Into a silk cocoon.
I’m panning for gold in
Her bright brown eyes.
Who calls love red?
Love is lilac:
Ashy clouds sketching outlines
For tomorrow’s early skies.
The bleeding blue
Traces a line of kisses
Along the edge of the sunset
As mist reflects on water.
Lipstick stained letters,
Violets in a vase,
Fingernails to trace in the morning
And a handmade lavender bag
Under the pillow.
8:06 a.m., 8:07 a.m., 8:08 a.m. The time kept ticking as
Roman laid up on his couch in the early hours of the morning. He was ready to
leave for New York over an hour earlier but Seth had told him to wait. The
banging on the door startled him up from the slumber, he began to drift off to.
comin’. Hang on.” He got up, fighting between being awake and being asleep. Seth
made his way inside with Dean following slowly behind him, pulling out a chair
at the dining room table.
delay?” Roman asked. “I had to reschedule the flight heading to New York to ten.”
at Dean, who quietly shifted in his seat. “Tell him, Dean.”
Summary: Gaston made all the wrong choices in life, and when a dramatic fall from the Beast’s castle leaves him wounded and near-death, he thinks it’s the end of his time. Suddenly, an old beggar woman appears at his side and heals him back to his normal self but gives him one year, and only one year, to find true love before his time on earth and the town’s memories of him come to an end.
Perhaps it was the endless chirping of birds that awoke Gaston early the next morning, but as soon as his eyes opened, the evening’s discomfort weighed heavily on his shoulders. He cringed at his impulsivity: Friends. Is that all we are? Shaking his head in hopes of ridding himself of the thought, Gaston pushed his body off of the ground and stretched. The fire’s dusty ashes perfumed the air with an overpowering aroma of decomposing timber; He must have fallen asleep while mending the fire. After Anne retired early for the evening, Gaston was rather bored on his own and it didn’t take much effort to doze off shortly after her departure.
Suddenly, a sharp pain brought him to his knees as it traveled throughout his limbs like a lethal liquid icing his bloodstream. The scenery was spinning as he clutched his heart, where the pain intensified, and stifled an aching shriek. Since his curse, there were sporadic moments of brief pain now becoming more frequent as June approached. Eventually, his panic subsided as he calmed himself with lengthy, heavy breaths and wiped the beads of chilled sweat that formed at his brow.
“Calm down,” he growled at himself.
When the stabbing feeling disappeared, Gaston absorbed the area; It was the early moments of sunrise, a navy hue tinting the earth, and birds greeted the day with their melodies while the breeze swept through the rustling leaves and tall blades of unkempt grass. Gaston could never pass up an opportunity, so he reached for his bow and arrow beside the lifeless fire and eyed a soaring pheasant that hovered overhead. As he lifted his bow, he stopped abruptly upon noticing three silhouetted figures stalking deeper through the woods, away from the cottage. There wasn’t a village in miles, he knew the land wasn’t populated. With careful, noiseless steps, Gaston slung his bow over his shoulder and rushed after them, his dark eyes focused on his prey.
As he ventured further underneath the dense canopy of encompassing trees, the sky seemed to transform into a charcoal color as his eyes adjusted to the growing darkness. More black than a coffin, heavy shade warped the sinister trees whose branches protruded in multiple directions like sharp daggers. The figures were closer now, a cloaked woman and two men, although their identities were unrecognizable. They scurried throughout the forest floor as the shade aided their escape. Moments later, Gaston was surrounded by darkness.
Panting deeply, he caught his breath and closed his eyes, listening closely for their footsteps. Nothing but silence and the sound of his own rapid breathing. Backing away, he stumbled over the uneven path, knotted with roots and miscellaneous sticks, as shrill laughter filled his ears. The cackle, high-pitched and blood-curdling, echoed throughout the woods. It was a haunting type of laugh, malevolent and foreboding, that stopped Gaston in his tracks.
“Please, don’t let me go!” The voice taunted in a sing-song voice.
Gaston immediately recognized his own words when the Beast dangled him off of the castle. Grabbing his bow, Gaston aimed an arrow towards the darkness, unsure of the intruder’s location. His anger was overwhelming as the layered trees that surrounded him transformed into an open battlefield that held his darkest enemies. His face was red with rage, fire burning in his pupils, as his furrowed brows created distinct wrinkles between his eyes.
“Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast!”
“Who’s there?!” Gaston’s voice boomed throughout the forest, nearly frightening himself with its power. “Show yourself!”