So, this is another first paragraph of a story I planned out long ago. But never got around to. But finally got around to! Yay Fira! (Those of you who are smiling and nodding right now know just how hard it is for me to write) Anyway, moving on. This is another one of those things I'm writing where I started it and it kind of just took a shape of its own. Apparently, Fira really enjoys me writing about her in a roundabout way. And, rant over. I'm just really happy with this one.
Nngg...everything hurts...so cold...where...what happened...am I dead...?
Green eyes look out from under heavy curtains of eyelids; unfocused, unseeing. A shiver forces the eyes closed again, unable to open.
Footsteps-two sets-approach.
"She's running a slight fever, but that's likely the aftermath of the hypothermia. I hope she wakes up soon, now that she's out of the coma." The voice is friendly, familiar, and belongs to a man.
"Thanks. I'll let you know if she does." A second man's voice this time: tired, weary, hopeful. The heart monitor in the room shows a quickening in heart rate.
The first man leaves, his feet falling in a regular, rhythmic pace.
A chair groans in protest when a body sinks into it. One hand, large and calloused, envelops a soft, petite one.
"I'd love to see your eyes, hon'. Hear your voice. See you smile." A sigh carries through silent air. "I miss you."
Crystal slides down delicate curves and onto a pillow. The darkened, heavy curtains lift slightly, glistening green meeting liquid brown. Shapely red curves thin out and turn up at the corners. A smile. The smile fades, lips parting as green eyes well up with hot, salty liquid.
"I missed you too." A whisper, no more than a breath that glides to waiting ears.
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