"I don't want to cry in front of you."
That's what she told him
Her eyes watering like a fountain
A beautiful fountain that is
Cheeks red like a ripe fresh tomato right off the vine
"Why not?" he replied
"Because...I look bad when I cry."
She had to cover her face
"It's okay," he told her
"No...it's not. I'm a mess."
They stood there by the pier off the beach
As comical as it was, the sun shining over them
The sun setting over the horizon with blistering colours
"I'm sure we'll get through this," he reminded her
She paused
A tear streaming down her face
Slightly smudging her mascara
The ocean wind blowing in her hair
"We'll?" she asked, taken aback by his plural statement
"Yes...you and me."
She paused again, feeling her heart skip a beat
"I'm too emotional though. You'll be sick of me."
"I could never be sick of you," he replied
The waves crashed into the pier of the beach
The summer heat pouring over them
The salt from the water brewing upon their presence
"We'll get through this," he reminded again
He placed his finger upon her cheek
Wiping away another tear
And he meant every single word he said
Because she was just so damn pretty when she cried
