𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

I don't think I could ever describe this specific day without mentally berating myself. A heavy veil of silence splayed over us as we walked side by side. The smell of ocean salt now lingers on our clothes, but we've grown accustomed to it.

No sarcastic bickering, no teenage flirting, no annoyance. For once I can say that the lack of arguing feels... unfulfilling. I've grown so accustomed to always clawing for the last word in speaking with him. It's routine. And you can't just break a routine like it's the new normal all of a sudden! You have to ease out of it. Jack's mere presence is typically enough to send my anger boiling over the side of the rolling pot. But now, the waters are still.

How dare I enjoy myself in his presence for a long period of time?? See? It sounds way worse when I put it into words.

Growing uncomfortable with the change, I open my mouth to say something, but to no avail. Left feeling stumped, I screw my face up absentmindedly as I sort through my thoughts. There's always something to be said, just leaping off the tip of my tongue. My brain is supposed to be on the run to toss me a quick response. Now, the lights are off, and I feel no electric zips through my veins to rile us both up in a heated dispute.

For once, as impossible as it seemed, no form of speech was necessary. God, I thought I wanted this, but now it seemed too good to be true. In the background to parody my thinking, there's the distant rustling sound of wind in the feral jungle. Tropical trees swayed gently, and wind whirled through the patterns of leaves and bushes, it was hypnotic. The ocean breathed as it crept up the moist shore stealthily like some nightmarish creature from the shadows, and pull back in a sigh as light claimed it once more.

My eyes dart to Jack's face. I half expect him to be looking down at me with that famous smirk, only he isn't. As quickly as my glance starts, I swallow hard and rip my eyes away. Is he not gonna say something? As I am further pestered by the new sweat beading along the rim of my hairline, I rub my hand to my temple as I process what to say. Sighing on this, I ran my fingers down through my hair which were immediately blocked by an obstacle of knots. I pause myself, slowly trying to comb it out.

Fed up with the constant tugging, a groan escapes my lips without the means to. I might as well give it up on the appearance of my hair. I allow my arm to limply flop by my side. Jack chuckles at my struggling. I glance to his face smiling softly. I was slightly unnerved to see him appear so kind.

"What?" I question. He poked out a lower lip and shrugged, raising his hands to prove his innocence before glancing away like something humored him.

As my head turns to the new direction, my face screws up once again in perplexion as that moment ends. Jack veers off to the right, but still keeps close. Why isn't he saying anything??

The sun began to descend slowly behind the distant horizon, making room for it's converse friend, known as the moon, allowing it to take over the bright day.

That moment, it seemed as if a bath bomb were dropped. The blue sky dissolved, and burst into the fruitful colors of pomegranate and tangerine. Like pouring a teapot, the reddish haze spilled over the azure sea, changing it's appearance. Golden hour was nearing, as God sent rays of buttery sunlight through the parted cottony clouds.

Trees and mountains start to darken into silhouettes, I've noticed. Tilting my head back towards the sky, my vision is automatically flooded in a white flash. My eyelids pinch as I squint, raising my hand in front of my face -- the shadow of a hand cast across my features.

I turn to my right slightly, not making it known or too obvious. Jack's skin appears amber in the golden light. Despite the infectious rays of the painted sky, his icy eyes only shone brighter, giving a pop of opposing crisp, coolness to his appearance.