He has a mop of thick, black hair, like his father. His small eyes are shut, but he has beautifully long eyelashes. I long to see his eyes, no doubt they will be as perfect as the rest of him, but I dare not disturb him
I took another tissue to dry my eyes before carefully turning the crisp pages until I came across an outline of a butterfly. I carefully coloured it all in, making sure not to go over the lines, using only the black crayon; it didn’t feel like a time for colour.
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As the moonlight trickled into the darkness that carpeted Abbey Park, a man in a suit could be seen. He was sitting at the swing he’d ran to every day after school as a boy, determined that he would be able to soar so high that he would fly over the bar at the top. He’d never managed it. That wasn’t why he was here tonight.
The sun had almost fully retreated behind the tall buildings, leaving the sky a hazy violet with an inky darkness slowly bleeding through the air. There were fewer street lights now. By the time the bus reached her stop, the sky had turned a deep navy blue. Alex set off along the pavement, her shadow dragging itself reluctantly behind her. Her heartbeat quickened with every step.
The truth of my words spiked the air around us. He stopped in his tracks, piercing me with his wicked blue eyes.
“And that’s what you want?” he muttered.
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I’ve worked it out. It’s not you I’m in love with. It’s the idea of you. Just like it’s only the idea of you that makes me fly and breaks my heart all at once..
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