Too Soon Sunshine
The starry night was clear, the moon full as it looked down on an island shore. A sorrowful tide drew away, an inhale as Envy stood watching, his eyes turned up to the moon. A shadow loomed—a dark phase—the stars blotting out along the horizon. It was the moon’s expelled breath—a tsunami.
It crashed down and swept across the entire island, all of reality dislodging and stirring like an upended snow globe. Envy stood fast, his own identity peeling away with the rest of his world. Gone was his shore. Gone was his black hair, his black cloak, and his somber gaze. Gone was Envy.
Daniel stood in his place—the remaining black dripping from him like caked mud washed away. His hair was brown, his blazer green, his eyes closed to conceal blue irises. Violins began to play, soon joined by other strings, then brass and percussion as a rejoiceful melody spanned the space, its tempo one of dance.
“You came,” called a girl.
Daniel opened his eyes and oriented on her—a green-eyed blonde, her hair pulled up, her form contoured by a summer dress—yellow with flowers, their pastel pedals mid-fall like leaves in autumn. The island had become a polished hardwood floor, the surrounding ocean showing a starry sky while the actual sky was filled by the stuff of dreams—a swirling gray where rabbits and small animals bound around, their impression cast onto the clouds’ backside as if a light shone upon them.
“You say that like I went out of my way,” he replied, then shrugged, his hands sinking into his pockets. “But you never left, so it wasn’t a long journey.”
She stormed towards him, their sliver of reality following and centering on her like a spotlight shining down from the heavens. When she crashed into him, he stood against a different storm, her head colliding with his chest, her arms enclosing his waist. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is all my fault. I wish it hadn’t—”
Daniel interrupted her, his hand moving under her chin and turning her gaze up to his, her eyes twinkling. “It’s in the past, and we’ve already said everything that needed saying.”
“But you’re hurting.”
“I’ve never regretted it. And I never will.” He looked around, the orchestra playing somewhere beyond their horizon. “It seems tonight should be one of dancing. Surely, you wouldn’t want to waste it on the past. Otherwise, we should howl into the wind while we’re at it.”
She glared, her lips curling playfully.
“I believe this is our song.” He drew back and proffered an upturned palm. “May I have this dance?”
She smiled, shook her head, and took his hand. “They’re all our song, Daniel.”
Daniel tugged her close, their chests colliding, her lips letting loose a giggle. Then, they were away. They made their own waltz, the world turning around them. The sky’s texture smeared, the animals scurrying with their turn, remaining visible instead of fleeing for cover.
Her dress flared as she twirled, like colors flinging out into the surroundings, the spotlight’s perimeter absorbing them as it passed. The colors rose up from the horizon. They bled into the clouds, soon tinting them, their contours contrasted by sprouting grass as if some unseen brush added strokes of green to a dome above.
Daniel spun her out, then pulled her back in, the collision causing her to grip his arm where she laughed into his sleeve. Every step, every turn, every time, her smile grew warmer. He kept moving them away, dancing towards a sunrise rather than the horizon where it had long since set.
Her gaze threatened to grow somber, then widened as he leaned back in a dip, smiling. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” She clutched his wrist with both hands and leaned away, trying to keep him upright. They collapsed to the floor where she spilled onto his chest, more giggles knocked loose as she propped herself up on her forearms.
They were both panting, both smiling as her eyes flicked down to his lips. She pounced, their lips converging, the pastels suddenly sharpening, their eyes closing. The kiss soon tasted of salt, then too soon it felt warm like sunshine.
Envy opened his eyes, the sun’s first rays spilling over his face as he lay back on an island beach, his hands behind his head. He sat up, squinting into the sun. I’ll carry it—your story. And I’ll tell the world.
Constraints:
Trope: Phlebotinum
Genre: Romance
