Chapter 39 - the nefelibata in a luchtkasteel

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Brad's POV 

"How you've been love?" 

My voice sounds more relaxed than it normally does. 

"Missed you." 

The fair hand I've always wanted to hold made its place in my fingers. Moulding together perfecting like two beings separated and long lost. 

My chin rested atop her natural brunette hair, sniffing in that shampoo she never changes as my fingers played with her soft waves. My bare feet grazed against the soft green grass of the meadow while her white dress fluttered in the wind. 

There was a certain heat or drive that would always pull me back to her. Like two strong magnets.

"I love you Tay-belle." I muttered as I looked into her deep brown eyes. 

My eyes lowered, set on the silver belle that rested between her collarbone. 

"I love you Brad." 

That was all I needed. 


nefelibata (n.) lit. "cloud walker" ; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dream.



They say when you die. Your brain repeats 7 minutes of your best memories.

7 Minutes of pure bliss.

7 Minutes of happiness.

7 Minutes of every memory I've ever wanted to relive.


7 Minutes of Tay-belle.







Taylor's POV

My knees buckled and my legs gave way. The wavelength of silence has faltered and everyone's slow breathing has come to senses. Brad was laying down where I left him. Where I shot him. As I looked upon him, a small smile curves on his smooth face.

My fingers prickled as if a million needles were trying to find their way out. My ribcages closed in tighter and tighter, as in my lungs have collapsed and the cages didn't feel the need to protect anything anymore. They felt useless, they caved. My heart was no longer in my chest.

His smooth palm, tinted with a red layer of crimson lifted slowly before my hand greedily went for it. Whatever he needed to tell me. In his palm bestowed a rope bracelet with a silver belle pendant.

I stifled a sob but it was no use. My eyes were already liquid but nothing came out. The wind was knocked out of my system and my entire body was on fire. It was like loosing a limb, just, all over. How funny is it that he makes me burn but fire is all that makes me feel alive. He was my flame.

"I love you." His hand caressed my face as my palms covered them, turning my head to place my lips against his soft palm.

"If anything happens tonight, I die your's."

"I'm your's" I muttered through my quivering lips. "I'm your's completely, I love you."

For a man with one foot in the grave, Brad cracked the biggest smile I've ever seen. His teeth gleamed while his face lit up. His protruding cheekbones high while his eyes squinted through the pain. His chest no longer raised as normally as it used to. It slowed. It slowed so softly one would think he was in a peaceful slumber. His beautiful hazel eyes locked onto mine as the tips of his lips slowly faltered.

I leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lip as his hands cupped my cheeks.

And just like that, I was frozen all over.

'luchtkasteel' (n.) lit. "air castle" ; a wish or dream one hopes to fulfil in the future, yet will never be achieved.

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