Now for story number two, by Amanda Leigh!!
I wasn't sure at first what I was going to write for this prompt. Then I was lying in bed and a single image popped into my head, with a description to go along with it, which is how this story started. Then another image came into my mind, and I wrote the middle to bring these two images together. It ended up with a fantasy spin on it, which I really love. Enjoy this short story, and please feel free to leave a comment and share. :)
Fireworks
Blues, reds, greens, and purples light up the sky above my
head. Bursting into light one after the other on the dark blue, almost black,
sky. They spark into circles and fade, leaving a lingering wisp of the colors,
fading into one another and painting the sky like delicate watercolors splashed
onto black canvas.
Blankets are spread out all over the ground, the damp grass
beneath them. Sometimes someone sits in a beach chair low to the ground, or on
the damp ground itself. There are dozens of people standing, watching the
magical fireworks burst in the sky. Many of the people stand in small groups,
forming half circles around one while they conjure mini fireworks and light
shows right in their palms, to the oo’s, aa’s, and gasps of those around them.
I take in the bright, beaming smiles of the children (and adults) watching the
lights spark in the magic keeper’s palms. Eyes aglow, lit by the blue or red or
purple or yellow lights. Sometimes I’m close enough to catch the light
reflected back in the watching person’s eyes. I smile, too, as I look at the
crowd on the huge stretch of grass, wishing I could stay here with all of them.
Wishing I could stay here, in this town, my home, but knowing I can’t.
Observing is all I do until I reach the back of the crowd (or
front, depending on how you look at it) and see a woman sitting alone a little
off from everyone else, on a spread out blanket, legs stretched in front of
her, eyes on the crowd but unfocused, far away. Her hair hangs over her
shoulders, hands splayed out behind her as she leans back on them. My throat
bobs as I gulp, knowing I probably shouldn’t walk over to her, but something in
me desperately wanting to anyway. So, against my own better judgment, I do.
Before I have time to think it through too much, before I
fully realize what I’m doing, I’m standing in front of her, blocking her view
of the festivities, though I feel sure she wasn’t watching them anyway. Still,
my abrupt appearance in her line of sight has her blinking and looking up at
me.
“Hi,” I say.
She blinks again. “Hi.”
“Can I sit down?” I ask, blunt. “With you,” I add, gesturing
to the blanket spread under her.
She hesitates. Her brow furrows. I just make it out in the
dark; the scrunch between her eyebrows, wrinkling the skin between them. Then
the raise of her eyebrows. She looks...confused? Surprised? Both? We stand in
silence. I’m not sure how long it is, but it feels so long that I’m about to
turn away, when her soft voice calls me back.
“Wait,” she says. “Yes.” Her voice is almost a whisper.
“Please, sit.”
“It’s okay,” I say, now convinced she’s only saying it to be
polite. “You don’t have to…I didn’t…I’m sorry.” I stutter out my words.
“No, it’s okay. Please, sit,” she repeats.
“Are you su-“
“Just sit,” her voice cuts me off, but she doesn’t sound
irritated, more amused than anything. So, slowly, cautiously, I walk onto the
blanket and lower myself down next to her, crossing my legs under me.
She turns to look at me. “What’s your name?”
I falter, almost give her a fake name, think I should give
her a fake name, but something has me spewing my real name from my lips.
“Sienna.” I bite my lip, as if I can hold back other words I shouldn’t let out.
“What’s yours?” I ask.
“Lana.” She smiles.
“Lana…” I taste the name on my tongue. “Lana…I like that.”
Her chuckle is soft and airy. “Thank you. Sienna.”
Darkness still shrouds us, but I can see her more clearly
now sitting right next to her. Long hair flows down her back. It’s hard to tell
in the dark but it looks almost lavender in color. Her skin seems to glow under
the moonlight, and her eyes…they’re the closest to silver I’ve ever seen. I
wonder is she a magic wielder or a non-magic? And if she is a non-magic, she
has the most ethereal features I’ve ever seen on anyone, magic or no magic at
all.
“You’re staring,” she mumbles, but she doesn’t sound upset,
she sounds amused. When I focus back in on her, there is a smirk donning her
pink lips. A small one, almost coy, and I grin back, though I feel mine is more
shy.
“Sorry,” I mumble back, feeling my cheeks and neck heating
up with a flush. The silence settling between us is not entirely uncomfortable,
but I still feel the need to fill it. Feel the need to talk to her, to learn
more about her, or even just to be able to hear her voice, or have an excuse to
look at her. Instead of staring. At least if we were speaking, I could look at
her and not seem creepy. Or suspicious.
She laughs it off, and want to hear her laugh again. Want to
be the one to make her laugh. Or hell, have her make me laugh. It feels like a
long time since I last laughed. I’m not sure I could even recall a time or put
my finger on exactly when the last time was. But maybe I’m exaggerating. Maybe
the stress of this all has made the days seem longer, drawn out in weeks as opposed
to days, made days not so far behind seem millennia away, lifetimes upon
lifetimes ago. I can’t be trusted to tell anymore. But here, with her, with
Lana, I feel I can slow down, be here, focus on time as it is unfolding, for
the first time in what feels like a very long while.
She leans back again on the blanket, her profile in my line
of view. I follow suit, lean back, relax my posture, or try to. I mirror the
way she lays on the blanket. Her palms spread out behind her, fingers splayed
out, legs straight out in front of her, head tilted back. At the moment,
looking up at the sky, but the moment I get comfortable, turning to look at me.
Before long, before I even seem to know what’s happened,
we’ve twisted on the blanket, facing each other. Smiling, laughing, talking
like old friends. People have started to file out of the open grass area, the
fireworks leaving the sky, and the mini lights show following their magic
wielders home. And still we talk. About nothing at all and everything. Talking
until the promise of dawn begins to touch the horizon. The dark inky sky
lightening to a navy blue then to a cerulean, then kissed with a brilliant
orange. I glance at it, wishing I could stop time in this moment, or slow it so
much I never have to leave. But I can’t, and as the oranges and blues start to
dance with soft pinks and lilacs, I know it’s time to go.
Before I do, though, I wish for one last thing, and since
I’ll never see Lana again. I take the chance and ask her.
“Can I ask you something?” My voice is soft, almost
inaudible.
Lana nods. “Of course.” Her smile soft.
I bite my lip, a nervous habit, suck my bottom lip between
my teeth as I try to figure out how to ask her. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…” she says slowly.
I smile, hesitate, wonder if I should be asking her this,
and then plow on. “Look, I’m going to have to leave soon. And I won’t be coming
back. I can’t.”
Her brow furrows. “Why-?”
“I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.” I shake my
head. “I can’t.” I pause. “But, I won’t be around people very much, won’t be
able to be, won’t be able to have relationships, friendships, of any kind. I
doubt I’ll have much human contact of any kind. I know we just met, but we’ve spent
the whole night talking. I feel…I feel a…connection to you. Could I…could I
kiss you, just once, before I have to go, and probably never see you again?”
She doesn’t answer right away, I’m only met with silence,
and her silvery eyes staring out at me. The silence stretches out so long I
worry I’ve gone too far, and am just about to get up to leave her in peace,
when she says so soft I barely hear it, “Okay.”
I blink, just beginning to rise up from the blanket on the
grass now damp with morning dew. “Okay?”
She nods. “Okay.”
I nod, too, then freeze, unsure of how to proceed. She sits
there, patient as she waits for me to move first. I gulp down a lump in my
throat and lean forward, closer and closer until our faces are mere inches
apart, and then closer still until our lips touch. A moment passes, and I brush
my lips against hers in a feather soft semblance of a kiss. Her lips part, ever
so slight, then I close my eyes and close the infinitesimal gap left between
us.
Soft, plump, pink lips meet mine, and I exhale a tiny, soft
sigh into her. The kiss is soft, sweet, gentle, all I could want from her. Her
hand cups my cheek and I reach up to curl a hand around the back of her neck,
holding her there a second longer before we break away, foreheads touching, and
stare into each other’s eyes. Just a minute more before I go, I think, just let
me be here with her just a minute more before I have to leave. Silvery eyes
holding multitudes gaze into mine, and I have to physically tear myself away from them, away from her, and
wonder about what would have happened if we met under different circumstances,
at a different time. If things were different.
“I have to go,” I whisper, voice cracking slightly.
“I know,” she whispers as she tucks a strand of hair behind
my ear.
I smile, gentle and sad, and reach over to peck her cheek.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She stays seated as I stand, one step at time walking off of
the blanket, and away from her.
“Good luck,” she says as I make to turn around, turn away
from her and this life for good.
“Thanks,” I say. Then force myself to turn and not look
back. Part of me wishing to see her again, thinking that just maybe I could,
but another part of me knowing we will never meet again.
******************************************************We hope you enjoyed this story!! Feel free to leave a comment and share. And if you want to find more of Amanda Leigh's work, you find that HERE and HERE. Or if you want to check out her PODCAST or her other BLOG.
