trickle, trickle.
rain falls from the buildings, trees and clouds, as the sky cries of exhaustion of shining brightly to those who don't seem to care. the white, fluffy clouds were suddenly dark and gray. the houses dampened in color, but they seemed to shine brightly nonetheless.
as umbrellas opened, the sound of the fabric rubbing against the metallic handle, the rain droplets hugged onto the umbrella like they haven't had anything, anyone to hold. chatters aligned with the weather, suddenly turning quiet but showing a lot of upset emotion. the dresses of women flowed under the protective shield of the umbrella, and men's sides of their dress-pants occasionally getting wet.
from the windows of the houses, there was the small sound of writing, ink dipping, and humming. the feather never lifted from the girl's pale, slim hands. it continously wrote, as if there was no end.
the pages turned, the paper rattling as the ink dried. the girl kept humming, lost in her thoughts.
day to night, the ink still moved, but it was still at the same time.
trickle, dip, write, trickle.
dip, write, trickle, trickle.
the sky kept seeming to cry, as if there was no real end to the emotions it was dealing with, but it didn't seem to bother the girl. her story was still going exactly as planned; she'd meet another girl she could land her lips on, a girl she could really love. she was happy at the thought, knowing it might come to her someday. with the contrast of her story, and the melancholic weather outside seemingly to affect everyone's mood, it was like an addictive chemical. she couldn't help but feel as if it made the sky better, knowing that the sky made her feel better in general. the sound of rain has always been relaxing, and often days she'd walk in the forest, just to feel the rain droplets on her tongue and skin, sometimes her face.
days, weeks, months go by, every day her story continuing to grow. on a particular day, she had gone out into the woods to feel the cool, winter air. it breezed against her skin, gently kissing her soft lips and cheeks, and hugging her in a state of relaxation. the cold was everything good and more.
to hear footsteps, creaks, and swerving was not uncommon, but they belonged to another girl. another girl?
the other girl stared at the pale female, her dark-brown eyes staring into the other one's emerald-golden eyes. their eyes traced across each other's bodies, then face, outfits, and anything else you could imagine.
one had straight, long, black hair, her emerald eyes with a golden ring looking to cast a spell of deprivation on anyone. she was tall, with slim hands, as pale as the january's welcoming snow.
the other looked up, her honey-like dark brown eyes staring from below. she had short, curly hair, the same color as her eyes, and gorgeous tan skin. they both looked so different, but they seemed so alike already.
they stared at each other nervously, before they just stayed with eachother in the nightlife.
they talked, sung, danced, and held eachother, their fun seeming to never ever stop. it was as if their time had stopped; stopped so they could spend an infinite eternity with each other.
but there's an end to everything. the tall, pale girl had to leave back home. before she'd gone, she laid her lips on the other girls' lips, gently letting her touch soak into her skin. it was heavenly.
there was no thought, only each other. the clear, night sky turned into gentle rain, but they felt so shielded to the point where they didn't even feel the rain.
as they both each other home, the emerald-eyed girl couldn't help but think of the other one. she was so perfect, even if she had flaws she knew about already.
day after day, week after week, month after month;
trickle, talk.
trickle, kiss.
trickle, rain.
sing, dance, laugh, love.
and for years they'd spend their time with each other, never feeling it a waste. they both had an endless amount of energy just for each other, whether they died soon or not, their energy would still live long with their significant other.
and the girl suddenly gave a title for her unfinished story; after finding her one love after believing that she'd finally find the one someday. the girl was like the light to her moon, her moon-sky when she most needed it.
she picked up her quill again, dipping it in the dark, midnight ink.
her pearl hands gently drove the quill onto the top of the first page, where her story started.
she swooped and swerved the letters, seeming to have every single letter perfectly in cursive.
the quill dropped onto the writing table, and as she stepped back to look at her title for her story.
"my girl's love brings light to my moon."
and honestly
she really
did.
© zeldah ♡, made with love.