coffee shop ; m.c

prolouge | her

he watched her come and go each day. surrounded, almost drowning, in a sea of people who cared nothing for the fragile body of disconnected ideas and thoughts that she embodied. if you weren't looking from his eyes she probably would have camouflaged into their foolish preconceived thoughts of society and the mockery of perfection, but she wasn't mockery. she was far from it. her constellations of freckles that smattered across her small pale face proved that. she was true, she didn't conform to their idle ideas of what perfection looked like. he liked that, just like he liked the way her small green eyes would occasionally peek up from underneath the shadow of her hidden face, he also liked the way she occasionally stuttered when she spoke in that soft small voice of hers. he often wondered how she became so overlooked, so unseeable to the beady eyes of a society so incompetent of handling anything out of the ordinary.

but, you see, she was different. so was he, and this made them invisible.

but that's the thing, she didn't mind being invisible, she held it close to her as if, if someone were to actually stop and look her in the eye there would be no reason for existence in this cold world. he knew, of course, that the world was not entirely cold and that light hides in small pockets of happiness, but it seemed that no one could ever be able to find that happiness. he, however, had found his. it was in the form of this girl whose every move lay so overlooked by others but not to him. she was that pocket of happiness to him. she was his stars twinkling in the night sky lighting up the darkness left by the sun in its rest.

but as he watched her come and go, he noticed something he hadn't seen in all those frosted mornings, the light, the warmth that she carried dimmed and he felt every bit of it. the darkness of the suns sleep had started to suffocate the stars and they struggled to keep shining the way they had the night before. as the darkness drowned her out he felt it start to suffocate him to,even the moon was constantly waning, it's light suppressed by the darkness of the night. he continued to choke on its dark inky breath but her name brought air into his lungs again, he whispered it over and over and the sweetness of the way the letters rolled off his tongue lulled him to sleep as he kept mumbling, lia, lia, lia.