Thin, feathery wisps of clouds sweep across its waiting face, as though excusing themselves quickly so the moon may watch.
A cold, cold breeze blows, rustling the fields upon fields of black flowers that bloom in the night under the crimson moon. Only blooming at night, their scent is not strong, but induces those who smell its fragrance to reminisce.
A girl stands at one edge of the black sea, staring at a young man on the other side. Both are clad in white tinted silver-red in the blood-moonlight. They gaze at each other, across the ocean of darkness, for what seems like an eternity. Then together, they take one step into the sea of black blossoms..
With every step, a memory flashes before their eyes.
Their first meeting,
Midnight in the park.
The pond reflecting the cool moonlight
The wind, rustling the trees,
Just like it swept through the nightflowers now.
Step.
His arms around her shoulders as they leant aganst a tree. A feeling of complete peace overwhelmed them both.
Step.
Sharing pasta marinara together at the cafe down the road.
He didn't like squid, she loved it.
She didn't like shellfish, he loved it.
But between them, coffee was universal.
Step.
A car accident,
Blood everywhere,
She lay broken on the curb.
He wept with fear, anger, hate and love.
Step.
A death, and he would never be the same.
A best friend gone too young,
Having chosen death over life.
Her arms were all that held him to his own.
Step.
A wedding. Theirs. Both clad in white, radiating a joy so bright it seemed inhuman yet beautiful and contagious. They embraced, two dark beauties with innocent smiles to break the coldest heart of stone.
They paused in their slow but relentless journey to each other, tears shining red-silver on their faces. Their faces, pale and bloodless, were an echo of death. Their silhouettes against the huge, red moon were heartbreakingly fragile, and the silence that lay only between them was tortured. The wind blew with malice, casting the scent of the flowers at them as again they began walking.
Step.
Discovering the world together, alone.
Nights of passion under the stars
Who shone only for them
The moon smiled down on them, whether in pity or scorn
They did not know.
Neither did they care, lost as they were
In each other's eyes.
Step.
They returned home,
Only to find those they loved gone.
The anguish that ate at them reminded them
Of what they had to do now.
They begin running across the sea of night, letting the black flowers brush their legs and the ebony petals float silently to the ground. The wind dies. The only breeze is stirred by the two running so swiftly towards each other, they appear to be two streaks of light drawn to each other with such force, the anticipation of their collision is painful.
In the middle of the field, surrounded by flowers as black as the night sky, they stare into each other's eyes. The moon watches, blood-tinted, almost agonised, as they embrace. Their movements are a story of undying love and endless pain, of restraint and passion, because they can never be together.
They embrace with desperate passion, yet hold back their tears.
They would kiss, were they not bound to destroy each other.
Their embrace was bittersweet, as behind each other's backs, they unsheathed poison-tipped daggers. They both hesitated, held the other more tightly for a second, and down plunged their weapons.
The shock on both faces became understanding.
They could not be together in life, but they could be with each other forever in death.
