Fictional Stories
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He & She

Listen While Reading: Lovers // Mornings.

Brooklyn in spring. Always a sense of fresh starts and chapters just beginning. As many new chances as there are flowers just starting to poke out of the ground.

She had met a boy. One her friends had warned her about, and with a cautious reputation, seeing as she hadn’t even brought up so much as the idea of him with anyone else.

It had started slow, careful and quiet. Meetings at coffee shops posing as casual friends, quickly turning into being greeted with sticky apple pastry lips, licking into his mouth with her bitter tea stained tongue. He is a prologue, she thought. A beginning.

She realized in June that she loved him. They were combing the aisles of a used bookstore as she kept prodding him to inform her of his favorite novel. “I think you’re my favorite.” he spoke quietly. “I could read you for hours, you know.” As he stepped closer to her, placing his hands to her waist, fingers digging in there. “I think,” he said, “there is a universe hiding inside you. There is a world behind your spinning green eyes, you know. I can see it when you smile.”

At that moment, she felt a shift, and everything was him. She felt him all around her, his name thrumming through her veins. She could tell time by the beat of his heart, taking shelter in the shadows casted by his dark lashes, feeling as if she could carve away the flesh and bone and hide behind the safety of his ribcage.

But time wore on, and he changed with the seasons.

Eventually, she grew tired, the light in her eyes burning out as each day wore on. She was sure by now her blood was boiling. Turning to ash because her veins felt dry, and she had a wildfire in her lungs.

“I never wanted to belong to someone,” she started. “I’m a person with feelings and a heartbeat, but I would’ve belonged to you, I wanted to belong to you.” As emotionless blue eyes stared down at her shaking form, she carried on. “You fucking rode in with your savior act and you wanted me. You kissed me and touched me, and now I lick my teeth and all I taste is you. My freckles look more like your fingerprint, and I don’t fucking understand because you had me.”

She realized then that even though he claimed her as his favorite novel, that he’s already finished the last chapter. He had fallen in love with her flowers, but not her roots. So when autumn arrived he hadn’t known what to do.

Words by Elizabeth Pierce // Photography by Sydney Ferrara.

© 2015 Reef Magazine


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