As usual, I'll get to everyone's when I get home. But anyways, I decided that Low was getting a little too much attention, especially since I have two (technically three) love interest. Yeah, it's complicated but I'm still working out stuff.
Um, this is unedited and I apologize for any tense troubles and other things that might occur in this snippet. But I hope you enjoy it : )
Morning light shone red behind my eyelids. There were no birds chirping incessantly outside my window, and for the first time, in a very long time, I felt well-rested.
I sat up, letting my unruly hair fall around my shoulders, into my eyes. A sweet fragrance tickled my nose, bringing forth growls in my stomach.
I kicked the blankets off my legs, the icy air surprising my skin. I wanted to pull the quilts back over my body, go back to sleep for another hour or another day.
But then my heart stopped and my eyes glazed over. Sitting a couple of feet away, in a rocking chair, as still as a stone, was a boy.
I knew him from somewhere. His face was, for whatever reason, stored in my memory. I closed my eyes and remembered.
His hands on my hips, my waist, my thighs. His hair falling into my eyes, his lips on my lips. No, on Sarah's lips. I had never seen this boy a day in my life. He wasn't apart of my memories, he was apart of Sarah's.
This was Ellis.
His bright eyes were focused on me, unmoving. They held no emotion. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he was dead.
He looked different. His hair was cut short, the wild curls gone. There was something strong and determined about his expression. He looked like a man who had lost everything.
"Ellis," I breathed his name, hoping my voice would unclench his muscles, turn him back to flesh and blood.
It worked. The way my voice wrapped around his name, made his eyes twitch. And then a small, crystallized tear fell down his cheeks.
He came to life.
"Sarah." When he said my name or her name, I could hear the pain, the longing. The stone exterior started to crumble, break until I could see the anguish that he had been keeping bottled up inside for almost a year.
He rose from the chair, his tall form reaching me in three large strides. As he fell to his knees, in front me I had to keep from shaking inside.
I didn't know who he was. I knew his name, and who he had been to Sarah, but he was nothing to me. But despite the fact that he was a stranger, I let him take my hands into his. His fingers were ice cold, they made me shiver. But he soon warmed my soul, as he kissed each finger, tears burning my skin.
"Sarah." He said that name again and again and again, until it sounded like a song.
I didn't know what to say. And I really didn't want him to cry all over me. So I just remained still, pretending to be his Sarah.