This is not vampires. This is something I found in the back of my diary.
I took a deep breath and knocked at the door, two oaken raps which echoed a bassline to the golden soprano light falling behind me. No answer. A bird cawed overhead, its harsh cry startling the wood into sudden life, smaller birds taking flight and long thin trees whispering their disdain.
The motes of autumn sunlight falling around my shoulders teased my eyes, winking out of existence as soon as acknowledged. Distracted, I watched a speck settle on the doorstep. Still no answer. I shrugged and turned away with a small breath of regret. The spilt leaves crunched mournfully to mark my footsteps. Maybe I would never see Finn again - while not a prospect I relished, I knew it had to come at some point. Walking more by rote than by thought, I turned right after the tree which still bore my red hair ribbon, faded now from a summer of light. Finn had tied it there the first time he showed me how to climb. I paused, looking over my shoulder at Finn's house, which seemed to grow out of the wood itself. Despite its glass walls and angular design, the trees embraced the house and lent it a faery grace.
I wouldn't come back. I'd just keep the perfect memories of my summer with Finn. I'd expected him to be there, hoped against all hope that he would be there in his wood-house where I'd left him. But as the summer faded, so too did my time with Finn until I no longer felt the playful whisper in my ear as I closed my eyes late at night, or caught a half-glimpse of him round a corner. Only once before had I had to find FInn of my own accord, and that was the first time we had met. If he wasn't there now, he wasn't coming back.
I set my shoulders and turned on my heel, intent on walking briskly so that I wouldn't have time to cry.
'Alice.'
And I was in Finn's arms once more, neither of us having moved knowingly. I wept silently onto his shoulder as his arms came up to circle me protectively,
'I thought you'd left, I thought you weren't coming back, I thought it was time...' The amber light trickled through his golden hair the same way it trickled through the canopy above us, alive and languid and beautiful.
The motes of autumn sunlight falling around my shoulders teased my eyes, winking out of existence as soon as acknowledged. Distracted, I watched a speck settle on the doorstep. Still no answer. I shrugged and turned away with a small breath of regret. The spilt leaves crunched mournfully to mark my footsteps. Maybe I would never see Finn again - while not a prospect I relished, I knew it had to come at some point. Walking more by rote than by thought, I turned right after the tree which still bore my red hair ribbon, faded now from a summer of light. Finn had tied it there the first time he showed me how to climb. I paused, looking over my shoulder at Finn's house, which seemed to grow out of the wood itself. Despite its glass walls and angular design, the trees embraced the house and lent it a faery grace.
I wouldn't come back. I'd just keep the perfect memories of my summer with Finn. I'd expected him to be there, hoped against all hope that he would be there in his wood-house where I'd left him. But as the summer faded, so too did my time with Finn until I no longer felt the playful whisper in my ear as I closed my eyes late at night, or caught a half-glimpse of him round a corner. Only once before had I had to find FInn of my own accord, and that was the first time we had met. If he wasn't there now, he wasn't coming back.
I set my shoulders and turned on my heel, intent on walking briskly so that I wouldn't have time to cry.
'Alice.'
And I was in Finn's arms once more, neither of us having moved knowingly. I wept silently onto his shoulder as his arms came up to circle me protectively,
'I thought you'd left, I thought you weren't coming back, I thought it was time...' The amber light trickled through his golden hair the same way it trickled through the canopy above us, alive and languid and beautiful.