Flower, Flower Beneath The Sky

Hurt

Now, he had found her, how much pain could she stand? How many many more shades of bruises could she colour? How much could she take?

Fear, vulnerability, more fear. And hate, hate she felt towards herself. For the first time, she hated those few days of peace she'd allowed herself enjoy. Now she was a peace that knew war, a war she had no intention of returning to. She didn't want to fight anymore. She hoped he didn't too. Because she'd lose, again. She could already feel it in her bones.

But never in her wildest dreams did she ever guess her hopes would come to pass. When he said something he didn't say, she'd concluded on wrong hearing. Then he said it again. He said sorry. And he meant it. She waited for him to take it back. Waited for him to take his words back, for it all to be some sick joke but no. In his eyes, she saw he meant it.

Fear, disbelief, surprise, pain, regret, more regret. And more regret. That and he'd called her sunflower too.

It couldn't be true, could it? That was not the ending she pictured. In the ending she drew, they were going to help her pay, then, they were going to pay too. This element of surprise didn't sit well with her, she didn't want a change in plans, she didn't know where she stood with that. Besides, could she? If she ever wanted to, could she forgive?

There was a much bigger picture no one had an idea of. A bigger problem that wasn't even shadows or Cole.

Then he pulled her up. His lips found hers, and fire found gasoline. She burned, every touch was fuel and she burned, rising flames of raw desire. And she wanted to keep burning.

Then he was the sky. And she stood a lone flower beneath his spanse, at his mercy again and again. Only this time, he wasn't any dark cloud or storm. This time he was both storm and sunshine, cold heat. And it didn't matter because at that perfect moment, he was the perfect balance on the perfect scale. Desire ripped through her like lightening, pounded her blood through her heart and body like thunder, coursed through her like electric current, pooling between her thighs.

She used to think what she read in books were just trash from horny bored brains. Now, she begged to differ.

She was knocked of her senses. She was on a rollercoaster, riding too low and dangerously high. Too fast. There were no drugs but she felt heady. Her head was thick and full of him.

She was fire and he was gasoline and when they met, they flamed to the sky. She was the sunflower and he was the sky. And when his storms stopped to let the sun through, she bloomed and they both shone. She was the hot in his cold sky so when they met thunder crackled and lightening ripped the skies.

His darkness is light, he's different today, lighter... And sunflowers like the light. The thought flashed through her mind and she had no idea where it came from.

Surprisingly maybe unsurprisingly, she felt herself ease into the kiss. He led and she found herself willing to follow. She whimpered under his dominance, melding into his protective arms when his tongue slipped in and took control. It was the only moment she actually felt as if nothing could ever hurt her again.

Unnaturally normal, that kiss. Like those moments when the moon rose before the sun entirely left the sky. When the moon flaunted to the sun in her borrowed glory that she could shine before her time.

But the sun would be calm and go away because it knew when it's time came again, he would shine again, brighter than anything. And nothing would stop he. He could punish the moon, outshine it, rob her of the light he so gifted her...But he loved the moon so much that he'd die every night so she could live again and again and again.

That it felt like, like the right thing, but the circumstances were wrong. A background of quicksand.

Who is the sun and who is the moon? Would he die to watch me live? Would I he? Would he give-?