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 Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 8:17 am
Hurrah? Just some drabble. I'm starving. -_-
It wasn't long before I finally made it to the park. She had called me early this morning, her voice plaintive yet slightly demanding. Her air was usually casual; but I could hear a faint tinge of anticipation in her voice. Anticipation? Whatever for, I wouldn't be able to tell you. But as I approach the bench of which she is sitting on, I can't help but feel a slight trepidation. Her caramel hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, some of the locks framing her delicate features. I felt my heart rate speed up as she noticed me and smiled; her beautiful, beautiful smile.
Returning the gesture, albeit sheepishly, I stuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans. It's a habit, really; if my hands have nothing to play with, then I just fidget my fingers and most people tend to ask if I'm tweaked out on coffee or something. It's still early morning, so I didn't bother to comb my messy mop of black and red hair, nor did I really care about what I wore (so a simple sweat shirt completed the job).
She looked stunning, as ever. Even in something so simple as jeans, a hoodie, a scarf and a fancy lacy hair tie.
Stopping about a foot away from her, not daring to sit down and disturb her gorgeous picture, the smile on my lips went a bit crooked.
"Morning," I say, my voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.
"Good morning." She says back, her green eyes bright as she regards my slightly mussed appearance. I blush, mentally kicking myself for not putting on a decent shirt. Really, my high school baseball sweatshirt? I'm smooth.
I glanced around briefly, taking note of the weather. Being seven a.m. the sun hadn't been warming the Earth enough to make it the usual summer oven, and it was still slightly chilly from the night. There were no people milling around, but a few cars went by on their way to work. She knows I'm not a morning person, but she also knows that I would do anything for her.
Even if it meant waking up at ungodly hours so we can just sit and chat.
When I returned my gaze to her, she giggled lightly and set her large purse in her lap. I raised a brow as she rummaged through it; really, how do girls keep such big bags? I'd lose everything. And apparently women do, too, seeing as they take five minutes to find their cell phone.
She makes a triumphant noise and I focus on what's in her hand - it's black. I can't tell exactly what it is, so I take a step forward and bend my body slightly so I can look at it. Held in her elegant fingers is a black napkin, neatly and beautifully folded into a rose. It even had a leaf on it; she's always been good with crafts and making something out of nothing, so this rose napkin definitely didn't surprise me. But it was amazing.
"I... I made this for you." She said, holding it out for me to take. I hesitate, not wanting to taint something so lovely that was made by this angel, but to please her I reach out and carefully take the rose into my hand. I can smell her perfume on it.
"Why?" I ask, biting my bottom lip and playing with the lip ring there idly. I'm curious, of course.
A faint blush tinges her flawless cheeks and she shrugs, "I got bored at the restaurant last night when it was slow. So I made it for you."
The smile that stretched over my lips was a flattered one. An appreciative one. To know that she was thinking of me while at work made my heart flutter; I chuckled lightly and reached into my pocket, taking out a safety pin and carefully putting it through the stem of the rose, then pinning it over my heart.
She smiles and pulls another rose out of her purse, and then does the same. I took another step forward and held my hand out for her to take, and she grasped my extended palm with her dainty fingers, pulling herself up from the bench. Our fingers interlaced and we set off deeper into the park, our matching roses on matching hearts.
My heart beats for her, bleeds for her, sings for her. She is the woman I love. And I know that I'll wake up early every morning for her rose, for her smile.
We shall pin
these roses to our hearts
and say a little prayer.
For if we wake
and we're apart
the blood will still be there.
Yeah... didn't think too much as I wrote this. Based on the woman of my dreams :] I wrote that poem at the end like, last week, and have been meaning to draw it out. But I think it fits this story pretty well.
I love you, Nicolle. <3
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 1:42 pm
it was good. the first paragraph was evidently your best, and the whole thing was fairly descriptive. you really know how to set a mood in your writing.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2008 11:47 am
Very good. Very discriptive. You should think about entering something into the writing contest. You're very good.
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 9:10 am
finally, something thats not a poem =]
you expressed the feelings very good. alot of imagery =]
(i think this is my favorite compared to all the others)
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