jazz: lost wanderers of the night

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A/N: Hey everyone! I'm really excited for this story because 1.) I love writing short stories and 2.) because I just love the characters of Jazz and Eugene so much. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!  

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Beneath the endless skies of this vast and consuming universe, you would think  it to be impossible for soul mates to ever find their lost lovers. Forever wandering in a state of weird reverie, the magnetic compass of fate and love attracts them and then it stops so that there is a slightly rough friction in the movements in the way the compasses work. They get pushed and pulled but never end up meeting because even though their bonds are forever entwined their paths aren't.

But once in a while, fate changes the way it spins its compass; and once in a while, two intertwined paths cross. Our paths. I remember what I said to you that day, when I started to realize just how deeply astounding and of an abomination we were.

"You and I, Eugene—we're the extraordinary ones." And we were, Eugene. In every which way.

I met you in the winter of my one-hundred and ninth solitude, and Eugene let me tell you this and you had better believe it: the moment we met wasn't by some splendidly reckless collision like they showed in the movies. You and I weren't made for movies, we were made for live Broadway.

 I wonder if you remember that day Eugene, how the breeze of the night sky felt as it flitted between our mass of sad souls, almost like the wind dancing to the pulse of our beating hearts, and how the ever changing state of our affinity seemed to widen and expanse until it became much, much bigger than us.

Snow was so much prettier when you watched it with someone. I watched the snow with you. And it was definitely, infinitely more beautiful precisely because of that. We were sitting on a bench near the river, the one where everyone would jump in during the summer and sometimes even the winters, although I'm sure that we were the only ones who did that. Do you remember?

It was eleven at night and there were stars that glimmered too brightly in our poignant eyes. You were a sad wanderer and so was I. Somehow, our wandering had led us to each other. We were two lost souls that craved for something to feel rather than the inevitable throbbing that was breathing while we were barely alive.

As if fragments of the memories never faded, your eyes looked at me and I saw it dance with mine. "I'm Eugene Pearce. Temporarily homeless and verbally ostentatious."

"Jazz Devine." I watched the silver water reflecting off of the moon glisten. "Lost wanderer of the immense and concaving world."

"Your name suits you but that depiction begs to differ." And you smiled this smile that made me smile.

"Well? Jazz is the sound of music and everyone knows how charming that sounds." I looked at you then, the toxin of my inability to provoke the vanity fighting to be unrestrained slithering out of the deepest corners of my punctured mind. You'd know. "But a lost wanderer? Now they're the real deal."

"Your name, because the latter frightens me."

"Why is that?"

"Because the latter is who I am."

"I can see that." I held out my hands to catch a drifting snowflake.

"And you're not scared?" From the corner of my eyes I knew that you gazed at me with that flickering slight smile.

"Jazz Devine doesn't cower to fear. I conquer it." I conquered fear, yes. I embraced a persona that is distinctively appealing, yes. But I've never plummeted in an ocean as unfathomable as you were, Eugene.

"Is that why you're talking to a handsome stranger in the depths of this vast night?"

"Of course." I lied, smirking. In truth, I knew exactly who you were the moment you looked at me through eyes like igniting flames and tranquil nights.

"You are something alright."

You would always say that. That I was too proud, too flamboyant. And I was. I'll bet that if you ever reads this, our story, you would probably cry and laugh and curse at the same time. Because that was who you were. And our story was far from a fairy tale. Because neither one of us was the prince nor the princes; we were the villains. 



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