Galaxies Ahead

Chapter 1

The scene was perfect; petals covering the thick, white stone railing, huge pots of plants filled twice their height with flowers blooming left and right, the blue and pink petals afloat on their thin stems. The furniture surrounding us was purely white and rich, only tiny accessories of golden pieces and the greenest, most alive plants there are.

And the colours. Oh, the most beautiful colours of the sunset. From the top, the most violent blue, to a paler purple, to a deep pink and a most fulfilling orange. At the bottom, only a hint of blood redness was seen and then, it kissed the ocean, and the oceans calm waves, who kissed back like a longing lover.

The same lover sat in front of me; Patrick Wilshire. His cutlery carefully situated in his hands, which lead to strong, veiny arms, which lead to bold shoulders and a massive, spread chest. All of this, except his hands of course, was covered by a very, very expensive tux. A white handkerchief was folded in his pocket, with golden initials engraved in it, presenting, "P.W."

In front of him was his expensive steak, with side orders decorating his sides. Between us both; our rose champagne, two burning candles and of course, a brittle bouquet of red roses right in the middle. Then followed my meal, and then my own hands, which occupied my own cutlery and then met with my naked arms, up to my own, smaller yet still broad shoulders and my neck, which held a heavy, expensive necklace, guarded with the shiniest pair of earrings dangling at my sides.

The smell of coffee and croissants filed around us from the café beneath the balcony, yet I lost my hunger. I barely touched my food, because I knew what was coming. No one had told me, but I knew.

Patrick was clearly nervous too, he must've been told. Ordered, even. His mother was strict on things like this. She knew what would calm me down most: flowers, sunsets, the ocean, white architecture, and my favourite pasta. Goodness, this was perfect. Horrifyingly perfect. She played my strings and pulled on what nerves I had left.

I began thinking everything through; the necklace, the earrings, and the country she had picked for us. It was all so plain and typical. It was so vein of her to pick everything. It was beautiful, yes, of course, the most hateful person could see the clear beauty of this place. And yes, this place was amazing, but my situation wasn't. And right at that moment, all I could think about was my situation, and the contrast between the beauty of my surroundings and the disgusting flavour of my feelings.

I had merely picked at my food with my fork when the conversation died again. When nervous, Patrick never really likes to speak and, for that matter, can barely speak at all. The conversation we had going was barely even a conversation in the first place. I hopelessly began to leave it silent, but he insisted, because he wanted it like in the movies.

'I hoped you'd like the place.' Has had mumbled, his eyes on his plate.

'I do, yes. It's just a little... surreal. You know..." I felt like he didn't know. He had this happen three times before, on this very balcony, with three different girls. All wearing similar expensive necklaces. This was surreal for him, I thought it was very easily the opposite of that. He was used to it.

'Yeah, I know, I know. That's part of the reason why I picked it. Just like-'

'-like in the movies.' I finished for him. There was another silence.

'I love you, you know that?' he asked. I bit my lip; of course I did. And of course, I loved him too. A blind person could see that.

'I know. I love you too. Really, I do.'

He giggled and looked up at me, 'You sound like you're trying to convince me.'

I laughed too and shook my head, biting through half a spoonful of pasta. Yet the thought stuck with me. After a slight pause and silence filled what speech had forgotten to leave, I closed my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek, knowing full well that I will say what's on my mind whatever I do.

'You didn't pick it.'

'Anna, we went over this.' He said, breathing out a sigh of frustration.

'I know, I know. I'm not trying to pick a fight, just saying.' I bit the inside of my cheek. '... I want our time to be quite special. We don't have to go on amazing hikes or go snorkeling in this sea for it to be fun with you. It's always fun with you. I just... you know, wish your mother didn't follow us everywhere.'