A sad romance story gone disastrous by one decision.
| “Kiss me Jack…our last for tonight.” She leaned towards him, her eyes full of impulsive desire.
He avoided her gaze, attempting to regain his thoughts. “It’s not right, what we have between us.” His voice faltered against the whipping winds.
She eyed him profoundly, not understanding. As she grasped his wool coat, he wanted to take in her warmth and concealment. “You’re only sixteen Sarah and I’m nearly thirty five years old. Imagine what could happen to us if anyone found out.”
She placed her finger on his lips, and before he could decline, she pressed her lips onto his. Even in the numbing cold, her lips were warm. A surge of heat traveled through him and he couldn’t back away. Her lips were magnificent; softer than anything he'd ever tasted.
“We…can’t,” he said slowly, struggling to resist the urge of kissing her back.
She slumped her shoulders, eyes widening in annoyance. “I want you to kiss me. Kiss me Jack. Tell me that you love me.”
He couldn’t. She shouldn’t. It had to be a mistake. These feelings he felt for this girl were unheard of. “I can’t.”
Her eyes burned of betrayal, and a shiver of regret overcame him. “What do you mean you can’t?”
He sighed heavily, fighting back the tears welling into his eyes. “It has to all be a mistake. I shouldn’t have these feelings for you.”
She attempted to caress his hand, but he jerked it away from her. “Jack Stefonie, I want you to tell me that you love me now! Otherwise I will be forced to leave you here alone in this numbing cold.”
He peered through her tormented eyes for reconciliation, but to his dismay, there was none.
He still said nothing. A silence clouded over, and the arctic winds seemed to be separating them.
There was the sound of crunching; footsteps in the deep snow.
There was the feeling of remorse; a pair of eyes burning through him.
There was nothing, only the hollow stillness of the night.
He dropped to his knees in the drifting snow, releasing misery and pain. Tears streaked his cheeks, and he wiped them away with his wool gloves.
“Jack!” A voice erupted through the wintery gust.
He lifted his head only to see blank whiteness. The winds died away, and silence came again. Only this time it was different. His heart began to pound rigidly, and he arose to his feet.
“Sarah,” he called out into the darkness. He received no reply, and several thoughts took hold of him.
He ran in the direction of her voice, boots crunching in the snow. Another piercing gust rushed through, and he pulled the hood over his head.
He approached the road, a white light disappearing into the murkiness of night.
A body lay still on the road, and he choked up sobs. Blood dripped along the edge of the road, coating the once, glistening white snow into a lucent red.
He dropped to my knees, and pulled her face into closer view.
“Sarah.” His voice was weak, lifeless against the roaring wind.
She looked at him pitifully; her mouth trickled of fresh blood. “Don’t cry Jack, it will be all right.” She spoke faintly, nearly inaudible.
He closed his eyes, tears flowing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry,” he sputtered.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, placing her hand onto his face.
“No it’s not,” he sobbed, grasping her cajoling hand. “What can I do?”
She smiled softly, and placed her other hand onto his face. By every second, he could feel her body stiffening in the cold. “There is one thing we can do. Only this time it means much more to me Jack.”
He peered within her hollow eyes anxiously. “What is it Sarah? What do you want me to do?”
She hardened her grasp onto his face, her opaque eyes locked onto his. “Kiss me Jack…our last for tonight.”