A Moth Without Light

Cold swept through thin layers of school uniforms, teeth bit into soft, full lips, hands thrust deep into pockets and eyes squinted as the wind beat wildly, tugging on lengths of curly brown hair.

“It’s cold hey?”

Blue eyes found the offending voice, barely caught in the droning of rain tapping on tin cover.

“No shit,” was the snappy reply, accompanied by a playful smile, tinted with another strange emotion. “You’re late.”

A laugh as a hand ran through short, golden locks. “I’m not late Steph. I hate skipping class, unlike you.”

Steph shrugged, her delicate, perfectly kept hands extended, awaiting their partners.

Taking both of her hands, he stepped close, kissing the cold lips before lowering his forehead to meet hers.

“Shouldn’t you get inside?”

“I’m fine undercover with you,” she replied. “Besides Rory, I’m more rugged up then you are.”

He laughed, the pointed look directed to his blazer-less shoulders before he sobered, staring into the oceanic depths. “I’ve missed you.”

A chuckle, a teasing one, the tone smug. “I haven’t been gone long.”

“That’s long enough,” he replied, pained, wishing for once she could be serious. Then again, she was always like that. Just like when he first met her…

“The name’s Stephanie. What about you?”

She had been resplendent-heavy dark curls swishing around a heart-shaped face, long lashes showing off deep blue eyes, a teasing smile curling up on plum lips.

“You look awfully bored here by yourself. Care for some company?”

Laughing, so carefree… it was as if she challenged the world, dared it to try her. She was like the light and he was simply a moth, drawn to the fire and life in her, captured so completely.

A pat on his head made him look up, jerking a little.

“Dozing off there?”

Frowning, Rory watched her walk off, hands clasped behind her back as she approached the edge of the shelter.

“I love the rain,” she told him.

Something akin to anger gripped him and he approached her, fingers clenching and unclenching. “I hate it.”

Head cocked slightly, she stared at him, face blank for a moment. “You’re bitter.”

It wasn’t a question-it was a statement-a fact. He was bitter. Who wouldn’t be?

A pout appeared and she leant forward, looking up at him through his fringe. “Rory, you don’t have time to be bitter.”

“I’m allowed to be bitter if I want,” he snapped back, irritated by her blasé attitude.

“You shouldn’t be,” she told him, grasping a cooling face in icy hands. “I don’t want you to be like this. I love it when you smile.”

Tears pricked at his eyes stubbornly, making his sight blurry. “I can’t smile anymore,” he croaked out.

She laughed quietly, shaking his face in her hands, head back, eyes closed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” She sighed, still grinning as she forced swimming brown depths to stare at her. “Don’t I always remind you that it takes fewer muscles to smile then it does to frown?”

“I like the exercise.”

Another smile, softer. “Rory, Rory, Rory…” She brought her lips to his, closing her lids as she hummed into his embrace. “I love you.”

The words were whispered, only heard from being spoken so close to his ear and they made him shudder in delight and he brought her closer, hands tightly around her waist-possessive and desperate.

“I love you,” he choked back, kissing her cheek as the warm tears slipped down icy cheeks.

She hugged him once more as the bell sounded before pulling away, kissing him swiftly as gentle arms released him.

“Better go back to class,” she urged with a grin. “Don’t want to be late.”

He watched her for a moment, taking in every angle and curve of the body before him, the confident, loving smile, the delicate face and soft, endless rings of curls. “No, I wouldn’t want that.” Another beat before he whispered out, “Bye Steph. I love you.”

She just smiled, waving at him as he turned around.

Taking a few swift steps to the door-afraid that his strength might fail, fatigued hands reached out to grasp the

handle, taking it for support. He paused, holding it for a moment, wishing he had the courage to walk away, back straight as Steph always had.

He didn’t.

Hesitantly he turned his head, eyes pinning to the place where she had been. The tears came hard and sharp, ripping cruel sounds from his throat as he began to shake, legs buckling. “No,” he moaned piteously, back sliding down the door as he held his head in his hands.

She was gone. His light had disappeared, ripped away from him much too early and now he was alone…

A moth with no light.