Bells
it's beautiful, isn't it?
The bells, he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. Color, burning red, spread like wildfire through the vessels of his face as she spoke.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The sound…” Her voice, sweet like honey, coated his mind, engulfing him in everything good about the world. And he just inhaled, breathed in everything about this moment – about her. For an instant, he was on the beach: the frozen sensation washing over his feet, spilling sand in between his toes, up to his ankles.
And then he was drowning, so lost, in the waves and the nothing and the everything. His hands reached out for anything – her – just praying to find escape. His feet kicked out, running on nothing; body thrown everywhere in the ebb and flow of the salty prison. He was sinking, so far down, and all he could see was that light so far out of reach. Fingers groped, like tentacles searching for prey, or seaweed desperate for air. His eyes strung shut, and he was falling.
“Do you remember what it was like?” Her voice sang on the wind, so at home amidst the golden notes of the bells.
“You mean, before we were Nobodies, right?” His eyes dropped to the dripping blue mess that covered half of his hand. “I… I do sometimes. At least… I think so anyways…”
“That’s good.” There was a peak in her voice and he knew that she was smiling.
He nodded, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, wanting to say something but not knowing just what. He twisted the popsicle stick in his fingers, more blue meshing with the pale pink of his hand. “You really love them, huh?”
He guessed she nodded before remembering that he wasn’t looking at her, because there was a long, empty lapse in their voices before, “Mmm. They remind me of something. I don’t know what; I guess I’ll remember once I have a heart though. I guess I’ll remember lots of things…” She was still smiling, gazing out past the rooftops and clouds, her own hand a messy blue. “But the bells…ya, the bells…” she trailed off, not needing to say more.
He nodded in slow agreement, closing his eyes. “Ya, the bells…”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The sound…” Her voice, sweet like honey, coated his mind, engulfing him in everything good about the world. And he just inhaled, breathed in everything about this moment – about her. For an instant, he was on the beach: the frozen sensation washing over his feet, spilling sand in between his toes, up to his ankles.
And then he was drowning, so lost, in the waves and the nothing and the everything. His hands reached out for anything – her – just praying to find escape. His feet kicked out, running on nothing; body thrown everywhere in the ebb and flow of the salty prison. He was sinking, so far down, and all he could see was that light so far out of reach. Fingers groped, like tentacles searching for prey, or seaweed desperate for air. His eyes strung shut, and he was falling.
“Do you remember what it was like?” Her voice sang on the wind, so at home amidst the golden notes of the bells.
“You mean, before we were Nobodies, right?” His eyes dropped to the dripping blue mess that covered half of his hand. “I… I do sometimes. At least… I think so anyways…”
“That’s good.” There was a peak in her voice and he knew that she was smiling.
He nodded, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, wanting to say something but not knowing just what. He twisted the popsicle stick in his fingers, more blue meshing with the pale pink of his hand. “You really love them, huh?”
He guessed she nodded before remembering that he wasn’t looking at her, because there was a long, empty lapse in their voices before, “Mmm. They remind me of something. I don’t know what; I guess I’ll remember once I have a heart though. I guess I’ll remember lots of things…” She was still smiling, gazing out past the rooftops and clouds, her own hand a messy blue. “But the bells…ya, the bells…” she trailed off, not needing to say more.
He nodded in slow agreement, closing his eyes. “Ya, the bells…”