Categories > Original > Romance

Blue Eyed Sky

by Nightmare_angel 0 reviews

He was with her every night in her dreams, and now, for the first time in what seemed like forever, he was right next to her for real.

Category: Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Published: 2008-05-02 - Updated: 2008-05-02 - 1620 words - Complete

0Unrated
A/N: The guy in this story is supposed not have a name, although I created this from a thing that happened to me earlier today with a real person. If you'd like to know, his name is Ethan, and he really does act like this guy...except I haven't got to the ending with him yet. laughs I want to though!


There he was, sitting in the rain not four feet away from me. So close, he was to me, but what could I do? There were a million thoughts in my head, and every second that passed felt like forever. Then again, it could've been forever and I would have never known it. I was too busy trying to not to stare at those deep blue eyes of his. The same eyes that haunted my thoughts and dreams numerous times before.


"So are you having fun?" It was the only thing I could think to say, even though it sounded stupid to me. We were in a closely packed shelter house, out doing a school project with three other schools. We were doing a civil war reenactment actually.


"It's okay," he replied with his quiet deep voice, "I wanted this day to end before it even started though." He was staring out at the rainy landscape around us, which seeing as we were on the edge of the safe haven we'd been sent to, it was either that or staring at people.


I was surprised of his response, not expecting it to be so negative. He was always so quiet, so I didn't know if I was bothering him or not most of the time. He was smiling when he turned around, so I didn't think I was being too much of an annoyance. You could never read his mind and the moment you think you have it figured out; he does something that you'd never think he'd do.


That was part of why I liked him, that mystery that always surrounded him. It wasn't just physical things that attracted me like his beautiful blue eyes and dark hair, but it was his personality too. He enjoyed the simple things, laughed at clean comedy, and was quite smart academically. He had a passion for video games, and he was very accepting of people...well, at least he was to me.


Recently, he started wearing more dark clothing like I do, and it made me so happy. Right now, he was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and faded jeans. I couldn't help but notice how the black of his hair and the black of his shirt made those unmistakable blues even better. They were like nothing I could describe.


His voice snapped me back from my thoughts. "I mean, I just wish school would end soon."


"Yeah," I added, "I'm tired of worrying about homework and stuff..."


He exclaimed, "I'm tired of forgetting about doing my homework!" I nodded as he turned around again. I turned my point of vision outside again and stared out at the dark ominous storm clouds.


Without even realizing it, I was feeling more relaxed then what I had before. The stress of breaking up with my girlfriend, impressing the guy who marched next to me, having sudden acne and no mirror to check on it, was making me a total mess. Since I had started talking to him, I had forgotten all of that. Every bad feeling dissolved into nothing as I could finally talk to him.


Talking to him was really strange for me, because of all the words I had said to him in my mind so many times before. I was getting used to telling him hi in the back of my mind every time he passed by, and wishing him good luck silently during class when I knew he was under pressure. It had been months since we had last spoken and I had forgotten how it felt. How it seemed that nothing seemed to matter to either of us but...each other, or that's how I felt anyway.


I spoke again, "You know, I have a question for you." He turned around, and blinked expectantly. "Once, I had painted some grapes the color of the sky, not the normal blue, but this stormy color, the one color with so many colors in it, and they looked more like grapes than if I had made them purple." I paused for added effect here and continued, "Then why is it when I try to paint the sky this color it never turns out right?"


So random and stupid the question may have been, but to me, it was suddenly worth asking. I had asked so many people before me this, and most thought I was just crazy or something. I just had a feeling somewhere inside that he wouldn't think like the others. He never did.


"I'm not too sure..." He said slowly, but then he raised his left arm to the clouds and added, "You know, it looks like there are no clouds but the clouds are so bunched together, you can't really tell them apart." It took me a while, but then I realized that he had essentially answered my question in his usual eccentric way.

He scooted closer to me and leaned his head out into the open downpour, which was falling hard and fast. It was then that I realized how beautiful he really was. It was like a gorgeous foreign painting standing right in front of me.


The ends of his naturally wavy hair were flattened by rain to his neck. Those eyes were shining in the reflection of rain. The brim of his hat was keeping the rain off most of his face, but one single drop fell down his forehead. The droplet fell almost like a tear next to his right eye, down his sculpted cheekbone, passing his lips and unto his shirt. I stared at where it landed, and the only thing that I could think of was how he also looked like a soldier; a young boy who had been through some tough hardships but still willing to continue on fighting like many had in the civil war. I told my brain to preserve this perfect moment, so it could be my personal painting to revisit within the annex of my own mind.


It's kind of funny, because you see some these people. You may know a few and know what I'm talking about. Shopping at the best stores, listening to the best music, spending lots of money on hair and such to continue looking so good, but only to be really mean underneath all of those looks they strive so hard for. Some don't even look that pretty after all they do to themselves, because it seems that nobody told them that wearing five inches of bronzer didn't make them look any better than before.


But then...there are these people like him. Their beauty comes from within and radiates like sunshine through their every step, motion, and word. Their perfection comes from the very fact that they have many imperfections but are comfortable with those flaws and failures.


He raised his fake gun, a long tube with some wood at the end to be shaped like arifle, and pointed it at a passing car.


"They all get to leave, but no, we gotta sit here for like...two hours." He was talking about the cars holding some of the people that came to watch us reenact.


"Two hours?" I echoed.


He laughed at my ignorance and shoved the butt of his gun into the ground. "No, Iwas only guessing, but it kind of feels like it, doesn't it?"


"Yeah."I was blushing now but he didn't seem to notice.


I knew I shouldn't, but I stared deep into those eyes of his, waiting for him to turn away. Usually he would've automatically turned away, or gave me awhy-are-you-staring-at-me type of glare, but he sat there for a moment, calmly staring back at me. I thought back to all of those times, all of those letters I meant to write to him.


I've missed talking to you like we used to.



I've missed imagining you in my arms.



I've missed that feeling you give me; the one where I always feel comfortable in my own skin.

I've missed...you.



I could continue on, but I could write books on my reoccurring feelings.


Both of us go quiet and stare out the horizon again. I heard some generals shouting in the background of my thoughts, but I can't look away again. He's smiling at me, and I hope he feels what I do. I stand up next to him, get on my toes and kiss him. It was light and quick because there were teachers around us, but Icouldn't get these feelings to go away.


Confusion and other feelings crossed his face all at once, but disgust wasn't one of them. Before I could finish my thoughts, there were warm lips against mine. Hislips against mine, like they were in my dreams only it was better, much better, now when I didn't have to go off of my imagination. It was like time stopped just for us in this beautiful moment, and now I knew how it felt to be in his arms. They were warm and inviting, and they held me close. Even after our lips parted, our bodies were very close to one another.


He sighed, "You have no idea how long I wanted to do that."


I laughed in response, feeling lighter than air. "Well, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words."

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