She gently walked atop the log, slowly bringing one foot in front of the other like she had seen gymnasts do on balance beams. He was closer to the water, his back to her, bending over to pick something up. Water lapped at his feet as the tide came in, the waves creating foam at his ankles. The water was cold, she knew, but he didn’t seem to care. She watched his hair sway in the breeze and his feet sink into the damn sand, his jeans rolled up to his knees to keep them dry. She stepped down from her log. Sand crept between her bare toes. Her dress brushed at her ankles, the breeze causing it to flutter against her form. Hair stuck to her lips and got into her mouth before she brought a hand up to tuck the strands behind her ear. The boy down the shore had now straightened himself, and looking out into the ocean he gently tossed the pebbles in his hand up and down. Up and down. Up and down. They clacked together, the wind picking up the noise, sending it her way. She took a step closer; her feet stepping so lightly that they didn’t even leave an imprint in the sand.
“I know you’re here.” The boy finally said, his gaze still out over the water, pebbles still jingling in his hand. The girl moved closer, showing no surprise or concern that he had noticed her.
“How did you know?” The girl asked back, her voice soft and sweet, so quiet that only he could hear. The pebbles suddenly stopped in his hand, a few fell through the cracks of his fingers. His whole body tensed as he replied to her, not as quiet as her, his voice straining to be casual, to sound strong.
“The day,” he said, “the place.” He paused, his voice finally wavering, emotion seeping into it. “I can feel you’re eyes, you’re breath. I can feel you here.” He paused again, sharply bringing in his own breath, “I can feel you.” The last words were said in no more than a mere whisper, a quiet confession. He shifted the pebbles in his hands, back and forth. Back and forth. With the air of someone athletic and skilled, he threw one into the ocean. It whistled through the sharp dry air, creating a delicate arc, a perfect parabola, before hitting the surface. With a distinctive plop it fell into the water, leaving only a series of rings to mark where it had fallen. The girl stepped forward again, decreasing the space between them to only a few feet. She smiled gently as the wind tugged at his shirt and threw his hair about his face. He was beautiful. So beautiful that she thought it would burn her eyes. She quietly laughed at the sight, her voice pure as winter snow, her giggle of joy floating on the breeze down the shore. He grimaced.
“How long?” he asked, his voice quiet again, almost breaking.
“Not long.” She stepped closer.
“Not long enough.” He muttered under his breath, half hoping she would hear, half hoping she wouldn’t. She sighed, moving closer.
“It would never be long enough.” She said quietly, her hands played with the front of the dress. She was now right behind him. She could see the muscles in his shoulders tense; she could smell his hair above the sea. She could hear his gently breathe, in and out, in and out. She could taste his words left unsaid, and they left a bitter imprint on her tongue. And as she wrapped her arms around him, as she hugged him from behind, as she brought her hands across his chest, as she grasped him to her heart as hard as she could, she could feel him. All of him, every single part of him, his whole being, his thoughts and fears, his loves, his dreams. Every single cell in his beautiful body was hers, everything single emotion she felt. She clung to him tighter.
He trembled as she slid her arms around him. He dropped his pebbles to the sandy floor and, shaking, brought his hands to hers, intertwining their fingers like he wished to intertwine their souls. She was his and he was hers. They were two parts of one. Lost without the other. Standing there on that windy shore, on that cloudy day, they were perfect. They were beautiful. So beautiful that anyone who came across that sight would cry out in pain, corrupted eyes having never laid sight on anything so beautiful, anything so pure. Silent tears poured down the boy’s face as he gasped for breath, as he cried inside and out. She could feel him shake under her. Shushing him, she gently placed her cheek again the back of his neck.
“Are you even going to look at me?” she asked, her voice too light for the strength of her words. He sobbed.
“I can’t” he quietly cried, “I’m trying to be strong.” The last part came almost as an afterthought, as though he didn’t realize he had said it, or that he felt that way. He tried to contain his crying and steady his breath. He tried to be strong for her. He could feel her eyelashes against his neck as she opened and closed her eyes, the gentlest of flutters. His entire spine tingled as he slowly closed his eyes, clenching his eyelids together in pain.
"You don’t have to be strong.” She whispered back to him, “It’s only me. You can be as weak as you need to be. It’s me.” Her voice was quiet but it didn’t waver. Her tears would come later; she had more than adequate time to cry.
They stood there, body and soul intertwined, as the minutes passed by, too short for the both of them. The wind picked up, stronger this time. It stung his tear-trailed cheeks as he cried again. It was too soon. Not now. Not ever. He couldn’t bear it.
“Don’t leave me,” he begged her, a desperate attempt, his last minute plea. She paused as she clung to him tighter, the lids of her eyes pressed together. Her response was only one word.
“Never.”
Her voice barely registered as she lifted her head off his neck and placed a delicate kiss there. Every emotion, every feeling, every want, fear, hope, dream, everything oozed from her soft lips, the touch like fire to his skin. In that word she left him her soul, her everything, so that he would never be without her. It was her promise, the only promise in this world that would never break. She gave him everything, her absolute being. It was a close as being whole as he would ever get.
“No…” his muttered as his gut wrenched, “No…” His insides fell away from him, his every part on fire, his whole being in pain. He couldn’t stand by, feel this happen, but he knew he would. His soul felt like it was being pulled into two. He couldn’t do anything. He felt weak and hopeless. That thought made him sob again. She gave a little smile as she pulled her lips away, her body breaking apart into a million little pieces of sparkling light, pressing a million little touches to his skin. A last goodbye, a million last kisses. His body convulsed as his skin was washed with her. He bawled as the wind blew her away like dust, her hair, her face, her beautiful fingers entwined with his and soon no evidence of the beautiful girl was left behind besides the boy left crying on the shore, and the imprint of her kiss.