Sakura
Sakura sakura stories
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zachtam
zachtam Words in Pictures and Music
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Song accompaniment: EverBeat & Wiljan - Wither
https://youtu.be/nkKl9ExJ...

Sakura

Pink petals flutter slowly to the ground around them amidst a forest of blossoming, bright buds. The afternoon sun sits lazily in the sky, unperturbed by any clouds or winds.

At the edge of the forest, towards white-capped mountains, they sit against a shaded trunk with her head on his shoulder, leaving only their outstretched legs for the sun to shine upon.

He uses his free hand to pick off petals stuck on her hair while his other remains wrapped around her waist. Her hair smells wonderful, as it always does.

She absentmindedly rubs his leg with her hand- she's always loved how those pants feel. They sit in silence as they look on at the view before them.

"We don't deserve this, love. How did this happen?" She says, after a while.

"I don't know either, lovely. I guess we just lucked out. But hey, I'm not complaining," he chuckles and kisses her on the head.

It was true. Their paths were like strands being twisted in and out into cord. They had met briefly first before separating, and then they met again once more.

A guy like him didn't deserve her; he knew it. She knew too and chose him anyway.

Whether a stroke of luck or unseen force had brought them together once more, they took the opportunity and ran with it.

She lays her hand on his chest and looks up at him, "I wish we could stay in this moment forever. Can we?"

He looks down to meet her gaze and smiles.

Her eyes, bright and wondering. Those times where he would sit and watch on, helpless and feeling stupid, as she would shed precious tears from those beautiful eyes.

Those moments with her look of intense focus and concentration in listening and understanding.

Those countless instances of seeing her filled with joy and happiness, her lips curling and widening in laughter.

His chest, rising and falling. Those times where she would sit and hold him, patient and gentle, as he would be reduced to nothing but shuddering sobs.

Those moments with his look of calm and composure, conveying the sense that everything would be okay.

Those countless instances of seeing nothing but playfulness and energy, wondering if he had actually ever grown up mentally.

They know the answer; they just don't want to ruin it yet.

Hours pass and a breeze begins to pick up, swaying the branches and treetops. The sun no longer shines upon them anymore and a coolness sweeps over them.

More and more pink petals shower on their heads and bodies.

He softly strokes her hair and their intertwined fingers gently caress each other.

"Love, I have to get going," he finally says with a sigh.

"Please stay," she pleads and presses her head against him, her arms wrap tightly around him, gripping his shirt too, "What will I do?"

He hesitates, "I...I don't know. I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I want to, but I can't."

"But, you said-" she sits up abruptly, her voice rises in anger, indignant, "You promised that we-"

"I did! And I absolutely wanted those things for us," he sighs again, "But I'm afraid that can't happen, at least not now. I'm sorry, love."

He tries to stand up but struggles with her clinging onto his waist and legs. A humorous sight, he realizes, if not for the serious situation at hand.

His heart is beating rapidly, protesting the decision he has to make.

She finally releases him, takes a step back, and looks at him. Her eyes are shining. He's not sure if they're glaring eyes or pained eyes. Or both.

She says in a low, defeated voice, "I forgave you for leaving the first time. Now you're doing it again."

"I know," he closes his eyes. He can barely hold back the tears- one trickles down. "I know and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Just...go."

He so desperately wants to go up to her and hug her, to wipe that strand of hair and petal away from her face, to kiss her one last time, to tell her that he loves her, anything.

He doesn't because he's afraid that he might end up staying. He backs away from her a few paces before turning and walking away. He doesn't dare look back.

She collapses onto her knees. Her tears flow freely and she sees nothing but a blurred figure becoming smaller and smaller.

She looks back at the tree where they sat against and puts her hand on the spot where he was sitting a few minutes before.

There is the indentation of him sitting on the grass. Right beside hers.

It almost feels warm.

Proof that he exists.

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