Lilac's eyes
She turned and stepped quickly into the silent hall, dress sparkling in the darkness; I didn't like the way she moved smoothly towards me and her eyes, outlined in black, glared viciously at me.
Her lips flicked upwards into an awkward smile, and me, unsure how to reply, grinned feebly back. She closed the gap between us in a single fluid motion and let her pale shimmering hand rise towards my cheek. “What are you doing here?” the voice I had longed for chimed in my ears. I backed away cautiously, dropping eye contact for the first time since she had entered the room. What was I doing here? There was no good reason for me to be here, but once I had decided, there was no longer a choice in the matter; I had to see her again. “ I told you not to come.” She uttered, her words becoming harsher; each letter ripped at me like sandpaper. Despite hostile words she automatically glided closer to me. Her hand clenching my forearm. “ I didn't want to see you again.” She sighed. My eyes moistened as they lost themselves in her flawless features. Her hand dropped to trace the scars that wound across my left arm. Judging her mood, again I stepped back. “I needed to leave that life behind me, I escaped from it.” Her eyes hardened, her hand dropped.
“There was nothing to escape from, you loved that life.” I urged, my jaw tightening.
“It wasn't my life to be living, I don't belong to your world and you need to get out of mine.” She turned and glided swiftly towards the door.
“Lilac, wait.” I didn't even expect her to turn in response, but she did. For one painful second our eyes met. One glance from her tore through me. A tear travelled silently down her cheek. All I wanted to do was move closer, comfort her; and at that moment I knew that if I did she would accept me back... but I didn't. As much as it hurt to see her upset I couldn't let her leave me again. I couldn't handle her walking away one more time, like she was doing now, like she did six months previous.
I waited for her to turn and walk silently through the crowds. A crippling pain throbbing in my gut, it spread slowly through my whole body as I waited, but she didn't move. So many couples, dancing blissfully around us, eighties slow dance songs deafened, but I hardly noticed. Why wasn't she saying anything? What did she want me to do? She was waiting, as if I'd ever had any power in our relationship. One by one the couples looked round at me, at her. I didn't like it, those eyes judging me, judging the colour of my hair. I strode quickly towards the back door, my heart breaking in my chest.
I suppose I was surprised she'd even remembered who I was. In a crowd of awe struck men, hoping for a glance at her white cheeks; a summer romance is hardly the most memorable event. I shouldn't have been so happy that she remembered my face, but I was; it was way more than a summer romance to me, her too I think. For one month everything had been perfect, we had been inseparable...but everything changed after that. Now she was back with her 'own kind', each with skin the colour of snow and vivid lilac eyes, like hers- she was back with the people she belonged with, but none of them knew her, not like I did.
As I climbed into my messed up VW polo and started its pathetic engine all I could think about was who I was driving away from. Will I ever see her again? I drove into the cold and lonely night. Her black, swirling hair. Her harmonic laugh. Her piercing eyes. Was she gone from my life forever?
The motorway sped beneath my feet and the three hour drive slipped away quickly. Each street lamp blinded, each car swerved silently passed beneath the quiet chug of the engine. Everything felt muted in comparison to the bigger pain on my mind. I turned the radio as high as it would go, I didn't care if I ended up deaf, as long as I couldn't hear her voice in my head. My eyelids drooped but it didn't matter because if I stopped driving my thoughts would again be dominated, more than they already were, with her soft, pale skin. I didn't care if I fell asleep and crashed into a wall, killed my insignificant self in the process; at that moment it didn't matter as long as I could run and hide in the furthest corner of my mind, outsmart the face following my thoughts round my head.
She rose until she was looking over me. A grin, unlike the one I had seen for so many months, spread across her face.
“I have to go to dinner.” Her voice chimed melodically.
“Sure you do, sit back down, your aunt won't mind if you're five minutes late.” I returned her smile and grabbed her hand.
“OK, five more minutes.” She sat back down, but even closer to me. Her head dropped down gently onto my shoulder.
I jerked my eyes open still copying her grin on my own lips. The reality flooded back to me in one swift blow. I slammed on the ancient brakes. I can't cry, I'm a man, I can't cry. My father, when he was still alive, used to tell me 'a man who cries is not a man, but a boy'.
Snow bombed the car heavily: hard, icy, sudden snowflakes. Each one as white as the 'New Aryan race'. Her race.
Thanks for reading!!! Now to chapter 2
