06-24-2009, 04:46 AM
Lubomir.
The ocean was thrashing, teeming with sound and vigor and color. She found it a dizzying spectacle. The waves beat against the shore, as if to bruise all the pristine sand. That sand flew as though there had been an explosion as lightning arced through the air, with sound racing to catch up with the speed of light. The gray woman swallowed hard, finding her throat dry as rain pelted her head. She bowed her head, hunching her shoulders in, trying to keep water out of her eyes. She should have known better than to come here, but she found herself inexplicably drawn here.
Ghosts of stolen moments whispered through her as she pushed open the heavy door of the lighthouse. The wood was rough beneath her fingers, and splintering in places. The last few months, nature had not been kind to this lighthouse. It was clearly wind-worn and sand-blasted. Geneva was just glad that the structure itself was made of stone, much sturdier than the heavy wooden door. The lighthouse would continue to stand, for a time. But it would always be a symbol to her, a reminder of something she had loved, cherished, stolen, and thrown away.
It had been here that all this madness had started. She had crossed this threshold and tasted her own heartbeat heavy on her tongue here before. She had watched the ocean change color, painted by the rainbow of the sunset so many countless nights before. It could have been a night like this, for all she remembered. The only color she could recall vividly was a heart-lifting blue. It was an image she both cursed and adored, each with only half her heart. She was tired of fighting, tired of living with her choices, and tired of trying to make up her mind. Her actions had destroyed that path, forever. Anu meant the world to her, and she still possessed a part of her heart. She would always love Anu, always care about her. And now, her heart twisted at memories of the woman's pain and anger, and the fact that she could do nothing to fix it. There was still a distant fire, a small tongue of flame no amount of time or distant could quell, and it burned for Anu. For Anu, her friend, the only being in the world who might understood her innerworkings so completely and perfectly.
Only the most frustrating creature in the world made sense to her. She sighed, disgruntled, as thoughts of Jefferson penetrated her stormy mind. She found she felt a bit of peace, even though he, too, sent her thoughts racing in a million different directions. The one man that didn't make one bit of sense was an anchor against her own confusion, guilt, and sorrow. That strange, bombastic, exasperating man. He changed like the face of water, calm one moment and rippling the next. And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to run to him, to confront him, to bask in the peace that sometimes radiated off of him, to contemplate him in quiet moments. She didn't know what she wanted of him - she only knew that she wanted him, a revelation that startled her. She stumbled until she found her back against the wall, staggered by the sudden realization. Sliding down to the floor, she rested her hands on her knees and stared into the dust flying into the air.
Fuck. Her heart leapt into her throat, and plummeted to the pit of her stomach. She blinked blankly, swallowing hard. I cannot - I absolutely can-fucking-not love Jefferson.
The ocean was thrashing, teeming with sound and vigor and color. She found it a dizzying spectacle. The waves beat against the shore, as if to bruise all the pristine sand. That sand flew as though there had been an explosion as lightning arced through the air, with sound racing to catch up with the speed of light. The gray woman swallowed hard, finding her throat dry as rain pelted her head. She bowed her head, hunching her shoulders in, trying to keep water out of her eyes. She should have known better than to come here, but she found herself inexplicably drawn here.
Ghosts of stolen moments whispered through her as she pushed open the heavy door of the lighthouse. The wood was rough beneath her fingers, and splintering in places. The last few months, nature had not been kind to this lighthouse. It was clearly wind-worn and sand-blasted. Geneva was just glad that the structure itself was made of stone, much sturdier than the heavy wooden door. The lighthouse would continue to stand, for a time. But it would always be a symbol to her, a reminder of something she had loved, cherished, stolen, and thrown away.
It had been here that all this madness had started. She had crossed this threshold and tasted her own heartbeat heavy on her tongue here before. She had watched the ocean change color, painted by the rainbow of the sunset so many countless nights before. It could have been a night like this, for all she remembered. The only color she could recall vividly was a heart-lifting blue. It was an image she both cursed and adored, each with only half her heart. She was tired of fighting, tired of living with her choices, and tired of trying to make up her mind. Her actions had destroyed that path, forever. Anu meant the world to her, and she still possessed a part of her heart. She would always love Anu, always care about her. And now, her heart twisted at memories of the woman's pain and anger, and the fact that she could do nothing to fix it. There was still a distant fire, a small tongue of flame no amount of time or distant could quell, and it burned for Anu. For Anu, her friend, the only being in the world who might understood her innerworkings so completely and perfectly.
Only the most frustrating creature in the world made sense to her. She sighed, disgruntled, as thoughts of Jefferson penetrated her stormy mind. She found she felt a bit of peace, even though he, too, sent her thoughts racing in a million different directions. The one man that didn't make one bit of sense was an anchor against her own confusion, guilt, and sorrow. That strange, bombastic, exasperating man. He changed like the face of water, calm one moment and rippling the next. And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to run to him, to confront him, to bask in the peace that sometimes radiated off of him, to contemplate him in quiet moments. She didn't know what she wanted of him - she only knew that she wanted him, a revelation that startled her. She stumbled until she found her back against the wall, staggered by the sudden realization. Sliding down to the floor, she rested her hands on her knees and stared into the dust flying into the air.
Fuck. Her heart leapt into her throat, and plummeted to the pit of her stomach. She blinked blankly, swallowing hard. I cannot - I absolutely can-fucking-not love Jefferson.