June stared at Everest’s reflection through the rear view mirror. She could feel his gaze settle onto the back of her seat; out the window and into the soft wind; on the ground where she’d left a plastic water bottle to crumple and wither away; really, anywhere but on her.

Over and over again, June tried catching his eyes. Over and over again, Everest evaded her attempts.

Finally, fed up, she sighed and opened her mouth.

“Are you ever going to speak to me?” She asked.

This time, Everest’s stare wandered until it was upon her, but it was different from any other stare he’d given her before. This one was colder. More aloof. As if she was staring at someone she knew nothing about.

A stranger.

“Well?” She prompted, internally wincing as his icy blue eyes pierced through her own warm browns.

“Are you ever going to let me?” He asked her dryly.

June gaped at the road in front of her. Beyond the windshield, the sky was colouring in hues of soft oranges and yellows. It looked like a canvas of something beautiful. Something that couldn’t be destroyed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked.

Everest snorted. “What do you think it means?”

June looked from Everest’s tense posture to the road in front of her, then back to Everest again. Suddenly feeling exhausted, she deflated. “What do you want me to say, Ev? What do you want me to do?”

He remained silent for a few moments before asking aloud, “You ever think about what things would have been like if we hadn’t met?”

All the time, she wanted to say. But that seemed too cruel — seemed too insignificant for what they are; were — so instead she asked, “You want me to drop you off at Fred’s?”

Everest nodded. June turned right.

It was only after a few minutes of silent driving that June spoke again.

“Ev?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“What’s going to happen now?”

This time, it was he who looked at her through the rear view mirror, and where she would have previously found softness and butterflies and hope, she only found indefinite grief.

He didn’t need to answer her. June already knew.

It was only after — after she’d dropped him off and he looked at her for what might have been the last time, his gaze filled with something akin to a question not even she had the answer to — that June thought about Everest. Really, truly thought about him.

He’d been her first love because he was her only one.

He’d smile at her softly whenever he caught her staring. Hold her hand through the warmth of his. Give up his blanket in the middle of the night for the sake of her own comfort. Love her unconditionally. Equally, intimately, unconditionally.

And yet.

Still, beautiful things break apart. Still, the sky continues to weep and the colours fade. Still, June comes.

Still — over and over again — she reaches for Everest.

—

/r/itrytowrite

Thank you!

The ground bled crimson and from it, the bones of slowly decaying bodies grew through.

But it was above, through the broken field of once green grass, that two men sat beside each other, dirtied and coated with thick soot. Their shoulders were broad but somehow still small — still so young — and when they slumped over, their backs rested against the trunk behind them like it was their only hold to reality.

Though, even without the tree, reality was never realer.

These men, unlike the men lying before them, had been lucky. They had seen the very worst of it, up until the last body was laid and finally burned, like ash in the wind, or tags without names, or faces without graves.

And perhaps that’s to say the war was their grave. Perhaps that’s to say they had always been walking to their death from the moment their mothers brushed the hair away from their faces and kissed their foreheads goodbye.

It was a sobering thought, to know that for all you’ve loved, it was death that loved the most.

The older soldier — taller, broader, and with a hint of a beard growing along his chin — turned to the younger one — shorter, thinner, no hint of a beard in sight — and tried to convey his thoughts without speaking. For no matter how much they spoke, they would never understand. After all, they spoke two different languages, and none knew the language of war better than them.

The younger soldier pursed his lips as if he’d just been sobered by something terrible; something foul and sour and awfully similar to growing old within seconds. But then he nodded to the man beside him, like he knew exactly what he meant. As if they were similar enough to understand each other.

But they weren’t similar. Nothing about them was similar. Their uniforms. The curve of their faces. The gapped teeth within the younger soldier’s mouth. Hell, even their fingers were different. But their eyes, one green and the other light brown, those were bred from the same mother — tasted the same bloodshed, held the same grief, made the same mistakes.

Yesterday they’d been enemies, but today they were only kin. Only two soldiers who survived the same war, walked the same battle, and buried the same corpses.

It was only in the dawn after that they’d been able to finally rest, but even then rest hadn’t come easy.

With a weary sigh, the older soldier closed his eyes, and it was only then that he could imagine the men beside him alive — his company alive — laying atop the field of barley where beneath, seeds sowed youth once more, for mere moments, just once more.

It made him wonder if barley was the same no matter where it came from. Though, when he looked at the younger man sitting next to him, eyes closed in restless sleep, he knew it was.

For it was here, across the battlefield and beside the smell of rotting flesh and bones that rattled even in sleep, that it felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

—

/r/itrytowrite

No worries, glad you enjoyed! :)

I understand what you mean perfectly! Sometimes I struggle with finding the right words, so to have you say that is very appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Thank you for your kind words!

I think this is all I have left in me. Enjoy!

—

“So,” Korren begins one morning. “The full moon’s tomorrow.”

I turn to face him, watching the soft, morning sun illuminate his body through the open window. He looks just as he did the day I met him— two rows down in Biology I. It never ceases to amaze me how perfect I can find someone even years later, as if we’re made for this moment. For all the moments after.

I hum. “It is.”

He grasps my hand, idly playing with the ring on my finger — a beautiful rose gold that wraps itself around my skin perfectly and in the middle hugs delicate, crystal diamond. If I hold it up to the light, I can see the deep reflection of gray and white shine through. Oddly enough, it reminds me of Korren.

“Do you need anything?” My fiancé asks. He presses his forehead into my shoulder, so his voice comes out more muffled than anything else, but still there’s unmistakable gentleness. I wish to hold him like this forever.

“I’m okay.”

He looks at me then, head tilting and eyes narrowing, as if he’s trying to read my soul. As if he doesn’t know he already can.

I look at him fondly “Seriously. I’m okay.”

He sighs. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” I reassure him, squeezing his hand. “But I could use some breakfast. And possibly a shower. What’d you think about that?”

A slow smile forms on his face as begins to eye me up and down. “I think I’d like nothing more.”

—

“Korren,” I groan. “For the last time! You cannot ask my dad if his favourite movie is The Wolf Man, or if his favourite song is Werewolves of London, or if he wants to watch Twilight with you! Actually, especially that one!”

“What?” He says in defence. “Twilight has a wolf in it! He’s literally Bella’s other love interest!”

“That — that’s not the point, Korren! The point is you’re supposed to be making a good impression on them now that you know about me.” I drop my voice to a whisper, “being a werewolf.”

He signs. “Alright, I’m sorry. I just thought your dad could use a little humour in his life. And your mom loves me! She told me she’d totally watch Twilight with me.”

“Of course she did,” I mumble. Then louder, “My dad doesn’t have the same humour as my mom, but I do appreciate you trying. I’m sorry if I’m being a Debbie Downer.”

“No,” he says, grabbing onto my hand. “You’ve done nothing wrong — that’s all me. I’ll get better at this whole werewolf thing, I swear! You’ve just got to be patient with me.”

“I suppose I’ve never really considered how you might feel about this. For the longest time I was scared you’d leave me because of what I am, so to have you here, going over to my parents house for Sunday dinner and knowing I’m a werewolf, well… it’s just a lot to handle. I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for being patient with me, too.”

Korren grins. “I love you, you know that? So much. Not even you being a werewolf could change that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How about if I was broccoli? Would you love me then?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Our laughter follows us all the way home.

—

All my life, I’ve never imagined this day would come.

And yet, here it is.

Here I am, doing the final touches of my makeup and getting ready to slip into my wedding dress.

It feels unreal, as if I’m living another person’s life. As if by the end of tonight, I’ll be the person I’ve always wanted to be, with the person I’ve always wanted.

In a way, it’s nerve wracking, but at the same time it’s exhilarating. Part of me wants to find Korren early and elope, which is ridiculous considering the actual wedding is only hours away.

Still, those hours feel like an eternity, and I feel more reckless than I’ve ever felt before.

“Excited?” My mother asks, coming up and hugging me from behind.

I nod. “Very.”

“Nervous?”

I grin. “Is it that obvious?”

A faraway glint enters her eyes. “I was just like that when I married your father. Best decision of my life, mind you, but for those few moments leading up to it I was absolutely scared shitless. Thought I’d throw up right then and there. Luckily, your father’s about the most patient man I know. And, well, who could say no to that body?”

“Mom!” I exclaim in disgust. “Seriously?? I did not need to know that!”

She laughs. “Sorry. Sorry. My point is that Korren is absolutely wonderful and you’re both going to make each other so happy.”

I smile at her through the mirror, watching my mother’s eyes well up with tears as she smiles back.

“You can’t cry,” I remind her. “Or else I’ll cry, too.”

She wipes her eyes, laughing lightly. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”

She takes the comb from the vanity and runs it through my hair just as she did when I was younger, asking for pigtails and pink butterfly clips. It’s so reminiscent of my childhood that I want to cry.

I grasp her hand, halting her movements. “Thank you,” I tell her. Thank you for being here. Thank you for brushing my hair even now, years later and fully grown.

Thank you for giving me a life I never thought I’d be able to live.

“I’m your mother,” she says simply. “It’s what we do.”

—

“We’re married,” I whisper to Korren in the darkness of the brimming night.

And under the glow of the open window, he turns to me, smiling softly.

“We’re married.”

It’s the best feeling in the world.

Thank you!

Thank you very much!

Yes, I do agree. There is definitely irony there!

Fixed! Thanks for pointing that out!

“So,” Korren starts. “I think we should make a documentary.”

“A documentary?” I ask. “Whatever for?”

“Werewolves, of course!”

I groan.

“Wait!” He exclaims, grasping onto my shoulders. “Just let me explain. First of all, who better to make a movie about werewolves than an actual werewolf? Second, I’ve always wanted to be a director! Third — and maybe most importantly — can you imagine all the money we’d bring in? And we don’t even need to spend anything on a cast because we’ve got one right in front of us! Oh!” His eyes widen. “Do you think your parents would be interested, too?”

I stare at him in disbelief, inwardly cursing myself for marrying this insane man.

“I’m not sure my dad would want to,” I tell him. I’m not sure I want to.

“But your mom would, right? She’s always watching those trashy bachelorette shows and complaining that they’d be more interesting if she was on them.”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? My mom would absolutely be on board with Korren’s crazy idea. My dad on the other hand…

But looking into Korren’s eager and excited face is enough to make me wonder how exactly I’m going to convince my dad to go along with this plan. Perhaps with that new fishing rod he’s been raving about.

A documentary about werewolves, huh? Who would have thought.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

—

“Korren,” I say, shaking him awake gently. “Korren, look.”

“Erg…” he mumbles incoherently, sleep clear in his voice. “Wah iz it?”

“Look,” I say again, pointing out our bedroom window. He slowly follows my gaze only to gasp when he sees the glittering expanse of travelling stars and its collection of fast, shooting bodies painting against our visions. It’s beautiful almost chaotically, as if the world has finally erupted and all that’s left in its wake are its colours.

A mark against the sky. A trailing signature against the universe.

It makes me feel as if we’re the only two people alive.

“It’s beautiful,” Korren whispers.

“I know,” I whisper back.

He pulls me into his side then, and we sit like that, just watching the blinking of passerby celestial spheres. It’s quiet, but not discerning.

And in this moment — in the presence of the only man I’ve ever loved — I feel as if I finally know the universe’s secrets. As if they’ve been unveiled to me under the blanket of dark earth and soft light. As if, for the very first time, I’m made for this world. For its love.

That it’s made for mine, too.

It’s here, laying with Korren beneath the soft, hazy glow of Earth’s steady gaze, that I don’t think about the moon once.

Not a series per say, just a series of moments. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

—

“Hey, love?” Korren’s voice sounds from their ensuite bathroom

“Yeah?” I call back. It’s been a long day — too long of a day, if you ask me — and I want nothing more than to lay with my husband and forget about today’s unfortunate events.

But alas, Korren seems to have other plans.

“Is this… uhh…” he trails off, walking into their room and carrying something… furry?

Korren laughs nervously. “Is this your hair?”

“My hair?” I ask, bewildered.

“Yeah, from your… you know.” He gestures to himself widely before settling his fingers into claws.

Oh, right. That.

Even after a year of marriage, Korren still gets somewhat awkward around the idea of me being a werewolf. Surprisingly, he took the reveal well — though he did suggest they dress up as vampires next Halloween. Something about it being the complete opposite of what people expect. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he’s the only person other than my parents to know I’m a werewolf.

Turning to my husband, I only sigh. “Korren, love, I don’t shed. And the last full moon was a couple weeks back, remember?”

He looks at me in contemplation, before his gaze turns to one of horrified realization.

“Oh my God, it’s your father’s, isn’t it?”

And — that. Well. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I love him.

—

The moon is bright.

Even at such a distance, it stares down at the world hungrily. Eagerly. As if it knew all the secrets of the universe, and I’m merely a byproduct of something thought impossible, something unveiled only in the darkness of the full, burning moon.

Perhaps in another life it could have been my God. But now — here — it’s only my damnation.

Sighing to myself, I turn around to watch my husband struggle with the campfire.

“You okay there?” I ask, raising a brow as Korren almost trips over a log. He catches himself at the last second though, and, laughing, waves dismissively at me.

“I’m okay,” he reassures me. “Seriously,” he says as I look at him unsurely.

He sighs in defeat. “Okay, so maybe I could use a little help.”

I grin, moving to take the wood from his hands when he stops me with a kiss, chaste and light against my lips, as his sturdy palms settle against my lower back and he brings me in closer, until my head is leaning against his chest.

“What’s this for?” I murmur into his shirt.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “I just love you.”

I raise my eyebrows, but don’t push. Really, I know exactly what he’s doing. Korren may be ditzy in all the best ways, but he’s also strangely perceptive when he wants to be, and now that I’m thinking about it, maybe that fall wasn’t as real as I originally thought.

“I love you, too,” I say instead, because really, there’s nothing truer.

It’s strange, to know that for all you fear, there’s something equally as dear to hold onto on the other side. I suppose that’s what brought me to Korren in the first place — his inability to confront fear with anything less than strength.

“I don’t suppose you have powers too?” My husband finally asks, mostly teasing, though I release myself from his hold all the same and step into the darkness toward the firepit, where a pool of water has somehow collected against the stone bottom, the flicker of the rising moon held in its gaze.

“No,” I say, stepping against the puddle. “I’ve got something even better.”

I smile up at him softly, my hand reaching out to slip into his own, and I know even without words he understands.

He always does.

—

I really do appreciate all the advice I get. I’m not a professional writer by any means and just do this for fun, so I’m happy to read any feedback I receive!

Though, for what it’s worth, you should definitely try your hand at writing for a prompt if you want to! It’s a lot of fun and good for practice.

Thank you!

Funny enough, I did contemplate about how blunt that sentence sounded. However, I eventually made the decision to “tell” rather than “show”, as I really wanted to drive that point home. I do think if I had separated that last sentence onto another line, it would have potentially flowed better.

Nonetheless, I do understand your point and enjoyed the way you described his emotions! Thanks for the feedback and for reading.

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed!

I love him. I really, genuinely do.

But that ring. Oh boy, that ring.

It’s not easy being a werewolf engaged to a human. It’s even harder when they don’t know about you being one.

I look up, and see him look at me expectantly. Those eyes bore into me, crystal blue and so earnest, perhaps the truest thing I’ve ever known. I’d love nothing more than to wake up next to him every night and see those eyes for the rest of my life. In an odd way, they remind me of the moon, something I’ve always been taught to hate. But looking at him now — at those blues that have only known tenderness — I find myself falling in love all over again.

“Darling,” I mummer. “I want nothing more than to marry you.”

The shaky smile upon his face grows into something broader and confident, as if moments before he wasn’t scared out of his mind. That’s something I can do too, smell his emotions.

He’s still looking at me though, because even if I can smell his feelings, he understands mine too, and that’s something I’ve always admired. Something that always seems to come easily to him.

“But…” He prompts, eyes lingering on mine. He seems more nervous now than he did before, his fingers twitching at his side unconsciously as I hear his heart begin to beat faster.

“Nothing bad,” I rush to reassure him. “I really, really, want to marry you. This is me saying yes, Korren. I’m saying yes.”

He stares at me silently, still looking unsure, though his heart returns to something more steady.

For a moment I’m sure he’s going to ask me what else it could possibly be to make me so hesitant, but then his gaze darts to the ring in his hand, and his face suddenly turns horrified. This time it’s my heart that quickens.

“Oh God,” he says, turning to me. “You hate it, don’t you? Oh God, I knew I shouldn’t have listened to that guy at the store, he told me this one would be perfect and of course it isn’t! Of course you wouldn’t like it! Oh God. I can return it, we can get something else. Something you like and —”

“Korren!” I interrupt his rambling. “It’s not the ring. Well, not exactly. Well, okay it kind of is the ring, but not in the way you’re thinking.” I take a deep breath, noticing the way my fiancé (fiancé!) is looking at me in equal parts sincerity and fear. “It’s beautiful. It really is. But. I — uhh — I’m actually not sure how to say this.” I laugh nervously.

“Anything,” Korren murmurs, like he was reading my mind. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge.”

And — that. That’s the man I want to so desperately marry.

I smile at him, albeit a little hesitantly.

Then, watching the soft, blue glow of the only moon I wish to wake up to, I tell him.

—

/r/itrytowrite