It took half a lifetime full of cliffs and ridges for her to finally make his smiling face the first thing she saw in the morning. Tears and scars had blooded the lines on her palms, to the point that they would represent her past, and not her future. It had begun how it concluded, a smile. A slight gaze, a chat, a night shadowed with conversation. They were what any two people in love are, two innocent hearts completely disconnected with the rational section of their brain. When they got together, a hut became a mysterious castle and a bed, wonderland. Calm as a lake yet stormy as an ocean, a feeling best left undescribed. They then faced the wrath of reality when society would pull them apart, for they were born as could not be. They fought a valiant war, against all odds, and emerged with battle wounds so deep, but the victory nectar couldn’t be sweeter. Each day, they then woke up hand in hand, looking at destiny with a new found respect. Memories they made and songs they sang, and time started flying as it always does.
She glimpsed at him, her trophy, her star, which she had stolen from a possessive night sky, meant to be her little niche of peace in a chaotic world. He looked strange with his eyes, so perfectly coloured, now staring blankly at the roof. Twenty years later, there was no change in his smile, but his face was now without emotion. She couldn’t understand. She had pushed all who came in between her and hers. She had never felt so helpless before, as she couldn’t push away the force that had finally snatched him from her.
Death had the last laugh.