Midnight Storms

He was so tall, strong and silent, like a tree that has seen the world as it changed. It seemed that he had stood there, through rain and snow, as though he had watched the flowers bloom and die all over again. His brown hair would flow in the wind as soft, pink petals came floating down to greet him. She’d watched night after night, how he’d stand so peacefully there, and watch the stars.

She knew not his name, nor anything about him. She’d seen him drenched as the rain poured down on them both, the heavens lighting as bolts danced in the midnight clouds. She’d seen him when the snow clung to him, glowing in the light of the moon. He was never there during the day, it seemed he was a ghost, there one moment and gone the next. She was never sure if he would vanish right before her eyes.

Tonight was no different; he was there his face upturned as he watched the sky. It well past twilight, the moon high in the sky. Its light was blocked by the crying clouds that dampened her body. She’d planned, for once, to just keep walking, to get leave before he did; but she knew it wouldn’t happen, like always she ended up watching him as he watched the sky.

It was strange to her, they’d never spoken a word- she doubted he even knew she existed- yet, it seemed as though she could trust him. He was like an angel that had fallen from heaven and only wished to return.

In a flash of lightning, her angel had disappeared, his silhouette no longer against the dark sky. She sighed, sometimes it hurt to know he was gone, there was an ache that lingered in her chest as she stayed in the old graveyard, secretly hoping he might return. As she turned, lifting her bag from the wet ground, a voice stunned her.

“You are leaving?” Without even looking back, she knew it was him. His voice was soft, kind, wise, he sounded aged and young all at once; he sounded like everything she’d imagined him to sound like. Her body stilled as his, strangely, dry arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting just above her head. “Will you not stay the storm as you always do?” His breath moved her hair, her body still ridged in disbelief.

She turned slowly, his arms were loose around her as she stepped back to see his face. His deep brown eyes gazed back at her, a soft frown on his gentle face. She smiled, tears tickling at the corner of her eyes, “Of course,” she spoke, her voice quiet and shaky, still clearly stunned.

A wide, close-eyed smile spread across her angels face; he offered her his hand, “Join me?” He looked to his perch upon the shrine that overlooked the cemetery. She nodded, and he whisked the two away faster than she could see.

From their seat near the sky, a girl and her angel watched a midnight storm, comfortable without words and names.