Temporary Snow

Some things may be beautiful, and you'll enjoy them while they remain in your life--but sometimes, those things can turn cold and blow away over night; as if the whole thing had been a dream.

                    I ran my palms along his waist, curling my hands around to move them slowly from his abdomen to his smooth shoulders. His bare chest felt soft and innocent, like a child's, and the electric feeling running through my veins may have possibly been simply more than just bliss.

                    He exhaled slowly, clearly trying to control his breathing in the candlelit red room, and although we hadn't known each other for long, we both understood that a four letter word had worked its way into our lives; love. He leaned his head down to kiss me, forcing my lips apart with his fierce intention to please me. My tongue unintentionally flicked itself against his, as he pulled away slowly to chuckle softy, eyes still closed effortlessly.

                    His cool breath smelled magnificent to me, more like a frosty perfume rather than the scent of spearmint gum or simply the own unique smell that lingered on his skin. I would never forget this smell; the smell of my first love.

                    I opened my eyes, realizing that the kiss that had just occurred may have been the most perfectly composed kiss of all time. 

                    Smiling both shyly and ready for whatever what may come, I pulled my shirt up and over my head, then running my fingers through the front of my hair, letting it fall back wherever it pleased. He kept his perfect emerald eyes on my face, the back of his warm fingers running from my temple to my jaw, then to my lips. Yet another of those perfect kisses happened, this time our tongues weaving back and forth, leaving me breathless. His hands remained on my waist for several minutes, until finally, he did as I had been waiting for; what I had been thinking, as if he had read my mind perfectly. He pulled me close and tight to his chest, grasping my waist in the same position as before. He pulled his lips from mine and traced them along my neck to my collar bone, lightly and gently leaving an invisible trail of kisses as he went. I leaned my neck back, holding onto his arms, inhaling for the thousandth time, the irresistable scent of his skin. He broke my smile with another kiss, kiss after kiss.

                    The bed seeming too far, we crashed to the tangled carpet, battling gravity to keep the fragile kiss going. Soon, we both pulled free at the exact same time, him whispering my name three times from under me, and I caressing his face with my curious eyes.

                    At that moment, the bedroom window shuddered, then flew open, releasing a furious cloud of snowflakes, covering us like a chilly blanket. I shivered but he only held me closer as I rolled off him onto my back.

                    "Awl yoh o-why?" I heard from above me. My eyes flew open to realize the words that had been said to me. "Are you alright? I think you had a nightmare, you were almost screaming in your sleep," my room mate said sympathetically. I sat up lazily, and replied, "I'm fine," I shook my head as if to clear the image. "It was just a dream."

                    She looked at me, clearly worried. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here, you know that, right?"

                    "Of course," I replied, closing my eyes once more, hoping the dream would just reappear. She walked away, obviously very tired, stretching her arms as she returned to her room.

                    The dream had vanished, and I knew the flashback would repeat; but it would most likely never repeat the same way it had tonight. The dreams I dreamt of the lost memory seemed to torture me, showing me times when he had did something he would never do in front of me, yelling in a harmful matter, enough to scare me, trying to scare the harmful person. When our perfect kiss became urgent for half a second. When he tried to protect me from a man that had intentions of harming me. Tears streamed down my face slowly but sympathetically.

                    The scent, his face, his smooth skin, the emerald eyes, his presence merely sending a shot of bliss through my body every time I thought of him.

                    I remember when he was alive; before he sacrificed his own life for me. Before I never suspected that a single man could feel confident enough to shoot another human being. Before I thought rape, in my mind, would never happen to me. A time when love was just love.

                    Before the snow fell.

Author's Note

"Before the snow fell." means that she's saying the snow was her lover, a beautiful, beautiful thing that she absolutely adored (everyone loves snow: so delicate and attractive). But like snow always does, it picks off the ground and is on its way. As in, she's saying, in a way, that she wishes she would have never met him: That way he would have never been killed, and he would have lived his life on, not feeling the need to make any sacrifices nor feel the pain he had to suffer through in order to save his true love.