Spoiler! :
A sparkling vermilion sky stretched out above her, twinkling and shimmering before her wondering eyes. Her delicate hands clutched at the lavender grass, soft and prickly beneath her fingertips. She sat up slowly, her head spinning as it processed the beautifully colored landscape before her.
Poppy wasn’t sure how she’d gotten to this place, or what, exactly, this place was. But she’d seen it in her dreams, once; a blazing world of intense color, saturated with more hues than she could give a name for, a land full of joy, excitement, and childlike wonder.
She’d woken from that dream breathless and grinning, had spent the next year trying to recreate it on canvas, only to find that the image slipped away every time her fingers fondled an acrylic brush. Now she was here, and it made sense that she would be dreaming once again, but it seemed far too realistic to be a simple dream. Maybe she’d fallen into a coma, but if this was what a coma was, Poppy hoped she’d never regain consciousness.
To her left was a forest, the trees shining silver in the light of the dying chartreuse sun. Their golden leaves stirred in the gentle breeze that played with her hair, lifting the blond strands and tossing them about. Dreamily, she took a few tentative steps, her footsteps soft in the field of grass. To her right was a little shack made of multicolored wood. The colors seemed to shift and change as she made her way towards it. As she drew near, the door swung open and out into the sunlight burst a man.
"Why, greetings, stranger!" he shouted jovially, his mouth set in a wide smile. His skin was a deep forest green, with curly ink blue hair that fell to his shoulders. But it was his eyes that startled her most, a tumbling kaleidoscope of colors that shifted from a gentle gold to neon pink quicker than she could blink. She stood stock-still for a moment, her eyes beginning to ache from the barrage of hues this world had to offer.
"It's polite to respond, you know," he continued after a couple minutes of silence. With a wink, he extended his hand to her. "My name's Raphael. And yours?"
"Poppy."
"Well, nice to meet you!" Raphael grasped her pale hand in his emerald one and she flinched a little at his soft touch, not sure what to expect from this world.
"Well, uh, Raphael," Poppy started, biting her rosebud lip and furrowing her blond eyebrows, "where am I, precisely?" Raphael laughed, a jolly chuckle that shook his lithe body.
"Why, Poppy, you're standing on the plains of Irisia, and I welcome you." He bowed slightly, a smile playing around his dark green lips. "Would you like something to eat?"
Without waiting for an answer, he led her to a little table outside the door. Pulling out a chair, he instructed her to wait while he fetched her some food. Obligingly, she sat down in the purple wrought-iron chair and put her head in her hands, wondering what was going on. In a couple of seconds Raphael reappeared. In his hands was a metal platter with a circle of delicate orange pastries that he placed in front of her.
"I made these myself. I think you'll find them quite delightful. Enjoy!" He disappeared back into the shack, leaving Poppy to scrutinize the treat in peace. She wasn't sure whether to try them or not. Taking food from a stranger was usually a bad idea, but she was starving, and they looked delicious.
Poppy picked it up with trembling fingers and brought it to her mouth, sticking out her tongue to lick off the sugar on top. Popping it in her mouth, she almost moaned with pleasure as the flavor hit her taste buds. Because of the color, she had expected an orange taste, but instead the pastry tasted of... well, it tasted like summer, like sunshine and laziness and happiness, all rolled up into a tiny sugary treat. She sat in content silence for a bit, feeling oddly full after just one little morsel of food, before reaching for another. She felt as if she could eat them for the rest of her life and never tire of their taste or texture. Raphael stepped outside right as the last one melted away in her mouth, and broke into a smile at her expression.
"Did you like them?" he asked, his rainbow eyes sparkling.
"Did I ever! How did you make them?"
"Ah, well, I can't tell you that, it's a family secret." He held a finger to his lips, smiling. "But maybe I can treat you to another meal sometime."
"I'd love that." Poppy felt herself start to blush, color blooming on her pale white skin. She angled her face away from his, so that he might not notice, and stood.
"Is that forest dangerous?" she asked Raphael without turning around, transfixed by the shimmering gold and silver trees.
"Not at all."
"Then I think I'll go take a look around." With quick, light footsteps, she began to run towards the metallic-hued forest, feeling like a butterfly flitting through the grass. Her whole body felt lighter than air, and she laughed with pure joy as she ran.
“Poppy!”
”Yes?” She turned, half hoping that Raphael would offer to join her.
“Just… be back before dark, okay?” Poppy nodded, her flaxen hair falling over her shoulders, and ran off. Raphael watched her go, a smile playing around his lips, enchanted by this strange, pale and colorless girl.
When she reached the edge of the forest, Poppy let out a trembling sigh of wonder. To her delight, a cobalt-blue bird flew through the air and perched on a trembling silver branch as she watched. It gazed at her with an emerald eye, clacked its beak, and began to sing, weaving the air with a gentle, soothing melody. Poppy gasped in awe, enchanted by the beautiful song, and stayed silent and still until the bird flew off. Laughing joyously, Poppy plucked a golden leaf from a tree and held it up to the light, delighted by the way it glowed. She felt like a little kid again, marveling at the simplest, most unassuming things.
“What is this place?” she whispered aloud, staring up through the golden canopy of leaves. A pure white squirrel scampered around in the branches above, pausing on a sliver of a branch, trembling under its weight, before leaping gracefully to the next one. Poppy laughed out of sheer delight. This forest made her feel like Snow White, at one with nature and her animal brethren.
The first few rays of light were quickly vanishing from the scarlet sky, and Poppy noticed the slight chill in the air that accompanied night. Tiredness overtook her, making her limbs grow heavy with sleep. Reluctantly, she turned around and started to walk back to the shack, glad she hadn’t wandered far. When she broke out of the cover of trees, she gazed across the purple field to see Raphael sweeping the patio in front of his house. She smiled and started to run, surprised at her grace. Something about this world put her at ease in a way she’d never been before, made her laugh for no reason and feel like singing because it was a beautiful evening.
“Hello again,” she greeted Raphael when she reached the shack, only slightly out of breath from the running. Her face was lightly tinged with pink and her hair was windswept, but Raphael found it to be endearing.
“You’re back! Did you enjoy the forest?”
“Yes, very much so! This is a lovely place.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Raphael smiled at her, and Poppy’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to study the beautiful sunset, the light green of the sun glowing brilliantly against the ruby red of the sky.
"Raphael," she said, turning to look back at him, "where can I find a place to sleep?" He looked surprised, as if he hadn't given the idea any thought.
"Well, I suppose you can stay here. There aren't any inns nearby."
"Oh, no, I don't want to trespass--" she began.
"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all. Here, try this,” he said, passing her a golden drink in a clear glass.
“What is it?” she asked, taking the glass and shivering slightly when their hands touched. The liquid inside was warm and bubbled like champagne.
“That’s a secret, too,” he replied, pouring himself a glass from an ornate decanter. “Cheers!”
“What are we toasting to?”
“Your arrival, of course.” He lifted his glass and she clinked hers against it before taking a trial sip. The drink was fruity, sharp, and she could feel it warm her chest as it went down.
“Well?”
“It’s fantastic! I’m beginning to believe you can do no culinary wrong.” Raphael laughed.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but thank you.”
“No, really! I’ve never- I’ve never tasted anything quite like it!” Poppy’s vision grew sharp and clear, her skin tingling, like she’d been electrocuted but in the greatest way. Something about the strange golden drink made her senses come alive, and she quickly reached for the decanter to refill her glass, but Raphael grabbed her hand.
“It’s not a good idea for you to drink any more of this,” he said, smiling. “Some people tend to get overwhelmed.”
“No, no, it’ll be fine!” she insisted, straining to reach for the bottle, but Raphael’s grip was like iron around her wrist.
“I can’t let you do that!”
“Please! Just one more glass!”
“Poppy!” Raphael was laughing, but his eyes fell short of humor. “No more!” He gently lowered her arm to her side, his gaze never straying from hers. Then he kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss that she felt to the tips of her fingers, her heightened mind buzzing like never before. With a little gasp he pulled away, releasing his hold on her arm altogether. His gaze was wide, disbelieving.
“I-I apologize,” he said, his hands clenching into fists. Poppy giggled, a little nervously, leaning towards him.
“What for?” she breathed, and angled her face towards his, closing her eyes and waiting for his touch, confused when it never came. She opened her gray eyes and looked at him questioningly.
I-- no, Poppy, no,” he said, a strange emotion crossing his features. He turned away, looking over his shoulder at the blue grandfather clock ticking away in the corner as if expecting something to be behind them. She took a step back, confused, and ran a hand through her pale hair.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice shaking ever so slightly, her wide gray eyes clouded over. Raphael offered no answer, looking over her shoulder and refusing to hold her searching glances. Poppy bit her lip, stared at the floor. The seconds sluggishly ticked by, neither saying a word.
“Look, it just wouldn’t work,” Raphael said finally, his forest-hued hands splayed in a pleading position. Poppy just nodded her head. Of course. She was too plain, too boring for this color filled world.
“Why don’t I… why don’t I show you to your room,” said Raphael formally, starting towards a door in the back of the café. Like a gentleman, he opened the vibrantly green door for Poppy and gestured inside. She stepped inside a quaint little room, the walls painted butter yellow, with a low bed in the center. She sat on the plaid bedspread, feeling oddly nostalgic.
“Where are you sleeping?” she asked. Raphael shrugged.
“I have a futon somewhere.”
“Oh, I don’t mean to inconvenience you like that! I can take the futon!” Raphael smiled, a ghost of his usual cocky grin.
“It’s no inconvenience. But there is one stipulation.” His eyes grew serious, and Poppy’s heart began to race. “You have to promise me that you will not, under any circumstances, leave this room during the night. There’s a bathroom and a bottle of water in here, so you should be all set. Just promise me, Poppy, that you’ll stay put until I wake you in the morning.” Raphael looked uncharacteristically grave, and Poppy felt a little jolt of fear rush through her, making her shiver.
“I promise,” she whispered, her eyes fearful. Raphael’s look softened, and he smiled again, the same bittersweet smile that made Poppy feel inexplicably sad. She longed for his touch, but Raphael remained standing stiffly in the doorway.
“Good night, Poppy,” he said, stepping out of the room and grabbing the doorknob.
“Good night, Raphael!” she called, but he’d already shut the door.
Gender:
Points: 1216
Reviews: 12