Their Moon Ran out of Time

His cold hands cradled her face. Her jaw fit perfectly in his palms.

“What now,” he whispered in a voice so familiar. “What do you think happens now?” She stared down into the darkness. Her eyes welled with tears that never fell. Her stale lips quivered, cold breath barely escaping them. “This world…” he trailed off. “You can't escape it. Any of it”. She faded into her head. Dizzy with memories. The swings. Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Her head would have fallen if it weren’t for his hands. He tipped her chin, ever so slightly, up towards the moon.

It shone brightly in his eyes. Not just Luna’s reflection, but that spark inside him only she seemed to see. She had never seen it brighter. She never did again. She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek. A motion she would spend the rest of her life trying to forget. Or rather, begging not to. Her hand explored the arches of his face, her fingers settling on the edges of his jaw. The taste of him lingered so longing on her tongue. He was stuck between her teeth and buried down her throat. The harmony of his heartbeat lulled her into an awakening sort of trance. Why was it all so temporary? Then again, what choice did either of them have in any of it?

“You knew better than I did that it doesn't last.” His words fading at the end. She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. That ocean green glow was all too familiar.

“Didn’t you think I would bet on us being the exception?” It wasn’t a question. “Then again, you knew what the world did to good things better than I did. Better than I do now,” she said. His steady breath became staggered. She knew the thoughts of his head better than even he did. Because of this he knew better than to answer. His fingers curled down over her throat. It was an endearing gesture, not meant to threaten.

Her head rested on the dew ridden grass. His hand was so steady on her neck. How she never wanted to leave this time, this construct, this moment. And though the sun was yet to show itself, they both knew it would not be late. So they too, must make sure that they were not.

“You knew it was too late for me,” his eyes no longer had the courage to meet hers. She slid her hands onto his, pausing before she laced their fingers together.

“I always had hope,” she said. Their heads bowed and met in the middle. Home. It had been a long time since they had been here.

“We were born this way.” His voice faded to a whisper. “I was born this way,” he said. “I couldn’t hope to change it.” She closed her eyes.

She put special attention into memorizing the texture on his skin. His hands. Perfect. The only word she would dare to use. They were both so still. Maybe they feared giving up this moment for the next. If that were the case, it made no difference. Those next moments came and it was all left to be sewn into their memories in only the ways they chose to remember it. Regardless, they stayed there as long as they could. Weaving this memory that no one else would have the privilege of knowing. He was the one who said forever. Unfortunately, she knew that nobody ever meant it when they used that word, they couldn’t. When someone said forever, what they really meant was that if everything stayed the same, just the way it was in this moment, then they would want this forever. But time moves on, and so do people. She was lucky she forgot this that night. It made the memory that much sweeter.

“I’ll always have hope.” The words escaped her lips so easily, it was a decision she had made long ago. Their hearts beat to different notes, and their lives had followed such different paths. She was only dipped in the water that he had been boiled in. Both tragic, one lethal. It wasn’t fair, they both knew that. But if there had been anything she could have done to make it right, to fix it, she would have. She never told him, but he knew. He knew what he was to her, what he meant. Still, part of him would never believe it. He couldn’t let himself. No one had taught him how. He knew she would have, but couldn’t bring himself to burden her with that.

“You know I can’t stay.” If she hadn’t been so close, she might not have heard him.

The outline of the sun revealed itself above the horizon. The moon that had once shone so brightly had gradually grown dull. She was alone. Her hands held up her head as she sat on the edge of her mattress. There had never been swings. She could never go back, only forward, ever forward. She swallowed down that last taste of home. “I know.” She whispered. “I know, my love. I’ve always known”.