2019 Writing Event Each Time You Fall In Love

Hell0NHighWater

Queen of Hell
[class=biggie] width: 100%; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; clear:both; font-size:13px; color: #1d1b15; font-weight:100; display:flex; flex-flow: row nowrap; height: 100%; [/class] [class=whut]background: url(https://media.giphy.com/media/FQUZwRawAgWT6/giphy.gif); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: cover; background-attachment: fixed; padding:30px; [/class] [class=handsomedevil] background: #e0e0e0; text-align: center; margin: 0 auto; padding:10px; color: #1d1b15; flex: 1; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; font-size:13px; [/class] [class=speaks] overflow: auto; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 10px; flex: 1; flex-basis: 30%; margin-left: 40px; margin-right:15px; [/class] [class=blue] background: #e0e0e0; padding: 10px; width:auto; [/class] [class=speakstoo] font-size:13px; text-align: left; font-weight:100; border: 1px solid #ced8e2; outline: 1px solid #eff0f2; background-color: #eff0f2; color: #272828; line-height:2; font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; padding:30px; max-height:1250px; overflow-y: auto; overflow-x:hidden; [/class] [class=speakeasy] font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #b9c0ca; outline: 1px solid #eff0f2; box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing:2px; word-spacing: 4px; text-align: center; font-size:12px; padding:20px; color: #272828; background:#eff0f2;[/class] [class=bottoms] font-weight:400; margin-top: 50px; clear:both; color: #272828; background:#eff0f2; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #b9c0ca; outline: 1px solid #eff0f2; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: italic; font-size:12px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; padding:20px; line-height:2; width:100%; [/class] [class=tops] font-weight:400; margin-bottom: 50px; clear:both; background-color: #040404; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #b9c0ca; outline: 1px solid #eff0f2; color: #272828; background:#eff0f2; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: italic; font-size:12px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; padding:20px; color: #fff; line-height:2; width:100%; [/class] [class=speakeasy2] font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #ced8e2; outline: 1px solid #eff0f2; box-sizing: border-box; text-align: left; font-size:12px; padding:20px; color: #272828; background:#eff0f2; line-height:2; [/class] [class name=handsomedevil maxWidth="800px"] margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px[/class] [class name=whut maxWidth="800px"] margin: 0 auto; padding: 0px[/class] [class name=biggie maxWidth="800px"] padding: 0px; margin: 0 auto; flex-direction: column;[/class] [class name=speakstoo maxWidth="800px"]margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px; margin-top:20px; overflow: auto; max-height: 100%;[/class] [class name=speaks maxWidth="800px"]margin: 0 auto; padding: 0px;[/class] [class name=bottoms maxWidth="800px"]display:none[/class] [class name=tops maxWidth="800px"]display:none[/class]
[div class=whut][div class=biggie][div class=handsomedevil] [div class=speakeasy]Flirty February Contest. [/div]
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~~✶~~
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Her mangled lip and obviously broken nose were caked in dried blood, congealed and cracked. The now browning liquid had drizzled down her face like rain down a window pane. Her brown-mahogany orbs scintillated with a mischievous glint that shadowed umber rimmed irises. They glowed with a humor and playfulness that even now, in the midst of adrenaline and scarce breaths, never faltered under the guile of darkness. Nevertheless, her eyes possessed their usual sorrow, a melancholic veil, which simmered beneath the jovial spark; it seemed as if it made the happiness in her eyes matte.

It was an odd juxtaposition to the scene around her; a world doused in grey with the figures that lie like dolls over muddied grass, limbs at awkward angles and heads held in such a way that they could not simply be sleeping. These bodies, once the repositories of people as alive as she was, were now abandoned shells left to rot in the open. Shells no longer bound by threads that she may puppet.

Who will bury them and weep salty tears onto their grave? Who will send them away with a love song and kiss the breeze that carries them heaven-bound? Likely, she mused, no-one at all. Some would be consumed by whatever wildlife remained and others simply decay, slowly giving up their flesh to the soil and showing their white bones to the sun. Such was the matters of life. And such were the matters of death. Flirtatious and whimsical in each their own right.


Allea turned towards the sound of feet pressing over wet earth, training her gaze onto the taller figure. His hand reached out, the pad of his thumb brushing away the crimson as if it were something he did daily. Steel grey, warmed and impossibly caring, clashed with a dark chocolate gaze. She watched as the fullness of his lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowing in something much like concern but also reprimandation.

“Allea, didn' I say I’d know when yer gone? You hidin from yer own feelins aint gonna make anythin easier.” He looked from her face to the meadow around them, seeming to soak in the carnage with muted indifference. The words tumbled slowly and cautiously out of his mouth, each one wrapped in a heavy voice. They seemed to have echoed from the roof of his mouth, spreading their warmth everywhere. It was this speech, this heady southern twang, this heavy accent of his that immediately set him apart from everyone else, it's what made him different than the rest of their friends. In a weird way, his voice reminded her of home.

Her eyes narrowed in on him, hip cocked and hand resting against it. “Life ain't easy, Harrison, 'an the faster you find out your life is better without me in it, the easier it'll be for ya.”

His other hand reached out, gently cupping the back of her neck, stare intense as he held her in place. “I say fuck that--”

Her features twisted into something akin to aggravation, “You ain't that dumb, Harry, ya gotta see that I ain't no good--”

“I said...no. I see all’a you, Allea, and I can not see this bad you talkin ‘bout...it breaks my heart to hear you talkin like that…” He drifted off, the palm of his hand pressed against the flesh of her cheek. She had never really noticed until then how the coffee tones of her skin stood out against the paleness of his. “I see beauty, I see power an I see strong inside a ya hon. Is all light to me.”

She stared at him for a moment that felt like eternity. Death had been the only thing she had known, a constant flirtation and romance of its possibility. Allea was nothing close to light, not in the way he was and yet...he saw everything so differently. “Then maybe ya blinder than I thought, Cher.” The corner of her mouth curled upwards, tilting her head into his touch despite herself. Her own hand reached up to press against his, watching as that grin stretched across his face with the luminosity of a million suns.

“God damn right. Blind as’sa vole.”

She snickered, “An you were doin so well until you said that.”

“Guess you jus make my min’ go extra putty.” He tapped the tip of her nose with a finger, offering a wink to pair with the stretch of his lips. Her nose crinkled in response, fixing him with a flat stare yet she found herself smiling anyway.

“Mnhn let's go with that.”

His laugh was like a pile of stones being tossed around, a low rumble, though still warm and hearty just like the rest of him. “Alrigh’, we goin or no? ‘Cos I mean it dont matter if ya say no anyway, ‘cos I’m comin’ anyhow. But givin ya the illusion of choice is my kindes’ offer.” Her lips curved into a smile, reaching up to rest her hand against his shoulder, "An' what it illusion it is, Cher," The fog around them swirled, moving as if they stood in the center of a tornado, "a perfect kind of offer."

~~✶~~​

She woke to a heartbeat, steady like a drummer, keeping rhythm, keeping beat. It was by no means fancy, didn’t carry the intricacies of a ticking clock or an acorn falling from a mighty oak. It was just a heart. His heart. The muscle that kept alive her everything: His life and his light to her death and her darkness. Trouble is, she didn’t know when he had become that important to her.
Some farm boy who slammed into her life with honeyed words and flirtatious winks. Never allowing her to wonder and always on her heels --a puppy that wouldn’t take no for an answer, no matter how many times she tried to push him away. His magic sang with hers, whether he knew it or not, a symphonic medley she had long stopped trying to ignore.

Allea looked up at his face, so relaxed that it was almost impossible to tell that the world had crumbled to ruin. The pad of her thumb brushed against the side of his face, mimicking the action he had made in her dreams. She stared at the angle of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the way his lips laid slightly parted ---each time she looked at him she fell in love.

“I love you.”

Sometimes those three words really are enough.


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