Today, We Are the Heavens- WIP

I was recently given the challenge of writing a short romance story. I've never really tried to write romance, the closest I've ever come was about Stockholm Syndrome (a novel in the works). Needless to say, this truly has been a challenge. I've abandoned three stories--which I do hope to one day come back to--and drank several liters of Pepsi in an attempt to stay awake to the wee hours of the morning, but I think I finally have something.

I have a certain fascination with unrequited love. I don't know why. I have an even stronger fascination for stories about whirlwind love stories that fall apart in the end. I think it's my love for horrible, horrible angst.

I only have about 500 words done of the 1,500 word story, but I'm enjoying where it's going this time. Hopefully this keeps up.

If there had ever been a day where the sun shone so beautifully, Isaac had never seen it. He would remember a day like this, it would be imprinted in his mind until he drew his dying breath. Slowly, he drew his hand across the lush grass, bringing his hand up until it brushed the long tendrils of auburn hair. He glanced to his side, taking in the profile of the young woman lying beside him. Her eyes were closed against the onslaught of the sun’s rays, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in the fresh air.

“Come with me.” She had spoken so quietly that Isaac had nearly missed it. A whisper into the wind. He wondered if she had even intended to say it aloud.

“Sam,” he sighed into the deep blue sky, his eyes closed as he drew a deep breath.

“Come with me,” she repeated, slowly as if afraid he would miss a single word.

“Sam,” as he spoke it, Isaac realised he hardly knew what he had intended.

“I can’t stand it here and I know you can’t either. I need to leave, Isaac.” Isaac rolled to stare into the deep blue of her eyes, so alit with a passionate fire that he felt himself cringing away. “What’s holding you back?” Isaac closed his eyes. “What good are we even doing here, Isaac?”

“My mother,” he whispered.

“She’s not even there anymore. I don’t know what’s left, but it’s not her. She doesn’t…” Sam paused as though searching for the right words to phrase something that should never be said. “She doesn’t even know when you’re in the room.” She paused again and leaned forwards. “And your father? He’s too drunk to even notice when you’re in the house.”

“I know.”

“So,” she breathed, bringing her hand up to curl around his. “Why not?”

“School.” He paused, opening his eyes once again to stare into that great, open sky. “Graduation is in two months.”

“I don’t want to wait. I want to get out. I want to see the world.”

“Sam, please.” Please, save me. Please, take me away from here. Please, please, leave me alone. “Why me?”

“I need you.” He grasped her hand with his own. She wanted a friend.

And that was all.