Poisoned in Red

03:59

          "It's beautiful," she gazed up at the misty yet colorful hues of dusk in awe. They both sat across a cliff, taking in the enchantments of the scenery around them.

          "The beauty doesn't lay in this world, but the way you look at this ugly world," Scott muttered.

          "Pardon?" she asked, gaze not leaving the scenery. His ocean blue eyes lingered on her lips as he leaned in dangerously closed to her face.

          "I said it's time for us to head back," he said, eyes fixated on her. "I can't believe we did this."

          "Snowflakes fall out of those fluffy things, right?"

          "Yes, princess. They're called clouds," he sighed, grabbing her hand while pulling her away from the view. "They're prettier during summer. Let's come back then."

          "I want one," she raised an arm and grasped the air that slipped between her fingers with a dreamy expression. "Scott, I want one of those."

          "That's impossible," he deadpanned.

          "But I've always wished to preserve a snowflake somewhere and I think I found the perfect storage for it."

          "Rave, you used up both wishes today and as I said, it's impossible," he halted to wear his mask to masquerade his identity among the crowd. "It's getting cold, let's hurry."

          "Scott," she called, once they entered the town. The windows to each house were lit as the twilight fades into darker shades of blue. An unnatural yet familiar sensation fills her chest as the winter breeze grew thicker and colder. The night she first met Cross—when she was attacked by an inhuman creature—the wind blew on her hair with the same vigor and benignity.

          "Shh," he silenced as the grip on her hand, tightened.

          "Scott, what color is the moon?"

          "Now isn't the time for irrelevant questions, Rave."

          "I don't think it's supposed to be—" she was cut off by a nostalgic presence of a matured version of someone she missed wholeheartedly, standing on her doorstep. "—Red."