A Thousand Years

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And it's not just once,

It's not just twice

I've fallen for you,

For a thousand times.

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How to be brave?

To Love when I'm afraid?

But that's the entire purpose isn't it—

Because in order to overcome fear, fear must first exist.

And bravery isn't about being fearless; it's about acknowledging the presence of it and yet, holding your head up high, looking the world—

In its eye.



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A/N: Long chapter ahead :) But I suggest reading it at one time, so perhaps it would be better if you read it before sleeping.

Brave Love: A Thousand Years



"Giselle? I-Is everything okay...?" Chip kneeled in front of the loveseat, trying to catch a glimpse of her lowered face. "Don't bite your lip so hard, it's going to bleed," He chided anxiously, chest tight. "Did...did Xander scold you?"

The girl shook her head; raising it so that if it weren't for the bandages over her eyes, it would seem as if she was gazing into his soul.

"Do you know—what's the color of Love?" Giselle's lips were thin; as if she was holding back the urge to scream but instead, did so in the form of a question.

Chip knew the answer to this question.

Why he knew—perhaps it was due to the many pieces of art that he'd seen created by the small being in front of him. And despite the little existence that she was, she made the biggest difference in many lives.

"Yes Giselle! It's black isn't it?" He replied quickly, patting her hand encouragingly as he tried to conjure something—a smile—out of nothing.

The artist shook her head fiercely with a frown, lips drawn further in as she felt the familiar sensation of a strangled cry. The painful lump rose dangerously close to the back of her throat—but she swallowed to speak.

"No!"

Chip blinked, taken aback. "N-No...?"

"It's not black!" She denied, shaking her head as she clasped her hands together in attempt to rein in her emotions like how the adults taught her to do so every single time—so much that it began to be a nuisance. "It's black because I'm blind!"

Her companion's heart stopped with a sudden shock; as he scrambled to grasp the words that had been spoken. "Giselle? Don't...don't say that, I-I thought," He unclasped her hands, protected her small ones in his, "I thought you used to say Love was black?"

"No no no! It's colorless, invisible! Like wind, can't catch—can feel; no color!" Giselle gritted her teeth in frustration. "I can't paint it!"

Chip wondered, then, how she was able to paint everything else. How she knew that Love had no color, or that other things had colors.

"It's okay, Giselle, you can paint so many other things! You can do so many things that I can't, do you want to paint now? We can paint cupcakes together!" The broken heart tried to mend the other, caressing the side of her face in attempt to calm her shaking frame.

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