White Sins

Chapter Twenty-Five

The sounds of bubbles and gurgling added joy to the crisp air of the creekside. The water, being so perfectly clear, practically sparkled from the reflections of the sun's rays. The trees that loitered in great numbers along the bank, are perfect in every way. Dark bark, and apple green leaves added the effect of a forbidden forest.

In fact, if you listened closely, you might even hear the slight tinkle of bells that signify the presence of the mischievous beings known as the fey.
But that is not the most interesting thing about this faerie land like place.
The most interesting, and perhaps even extraordinary thing, is a girl.

Not a particularly pretty, or popular girl is she. Her nose, appears to some at an rather sharp angle, giving off the feeling of someone who knows too much. Her eyes, reflecting the blue skies as she lays against the smooth grass of the bank, are an unsettling gray. Her lips, a gorgeously blush pink, make her pale skin tone look almost dead in comparison.

The girl's white hair is splayed out in all directions around her, courtesy of her arms supporting her head. Her strands of porcelain hair aren't particularly shiny at all, but rather have the look of old fabric. Dull, worn beyond all accounts, but unrealistically soft. In fact, if you ran your fingers through the pale waves,(as if she would let you) you would find it so pleasing to the touch you would never let go.

With one black jean clad leg propped up, the girl let out a deep sigh. Her torso heaved up and down, releasing all the stress that had been accumulating. If anyone knew her at all, they would know that the unusual complacent look on her face was utterly sincere. It was here, in her own created mindscape, that she is truly relaxed.

That small sliver of peace that she holds dear, is about to be disturbed by the man approaching behind her.

He is, in fact, incredibly handsome, or 'fine' as the kids says nowadays. His brunet hair, fell just onto his forehead in small curls. The sun shining through his locks shows the rusty red tinge to them. His eyes, a blueish-grey that makes women, (and sometimes men) fall weak at the knees. The hardness of someone that has lived many lifetimes shows plainly.

The light scruff that covers his jaw matches his hair tone, and adds to his rough-around-the-edges aura. High cheekbones that could cut into anyone who looked open them, were often graced with a smirk that showed off dimples. It was in his sadistic smile, that you could see the hint of the devil, hidden behind layers of charm and centuries of practice.

"So this is where you go to hide from the world, love?" His voice, a delicious British accent that blessed ears, asked with mirth lacing his tone.

The girl didn't even bother to turn her head, she had heard him approaching  a minute earlier.

"Yes, I suppose it is." Her voice belied his, a cool undertone with clear enunciation of vowels, consonants, and syllables. One could even describe it as gender-neutral, as it lacks the high notes of femininity, and the low ones of masculinity.

"Hmm. I would normally gloat as to how easily I slipped into your mind, but now I see that you clearly let me in."

"Uh-huh."

"But why would you do that? You've stated from the moment you met me how you don't trust anyone. I could very well just slip into your deeper thoughts and memories..." He trailed off as a look of confusion came over his face.

"Have you figured it out yet? Of course you haven't. It's not a dream, hybrid, it's a paracosm. A fake reality where I can change anything at will. I'm not even asleep right now."

A glass bottle of ginger ale suddenly appeared in her slender hand. His eyes watched her every move as she took a long sip.

"Sit." She commanded, patting the ground to her left. He readily complied, sitting upward while propping himself with his arms behind him. A second later and he had already lowered himself in a position that mirrored hers, laying down while staring up at the sky.

"How do you do it?" He broke the silence.

"Do what, exactly?"

"Stay in control, keep calm, make all the right decisions and know exactly what to do."

She contemplated for a minute, thinking well before she spoke,

"Normally I would explain how to analyze situations and to deduce the right response, but I don't want to bore you. So instead, I'll just say      this; I learned from experience, I saw, I heard, and I applied. If everything I did was spontaneous, than so would be the outcome. But if I contained my response, than so the outcome."

His mouth fell agape, a rather stunned look on his face. In all of his years... he had never heard something so simple, and yet so wise, come from someone so young. She's only eighteen for heaven's sakes. And yet here she is, staring up at the sky as if it held all the answers of the universe. Who know's? Maybe it does.

And in that moment, a chip had picked away from the stone wall he had buried himself behind.

But for her? It was a moment of anxiety. She had never shared something so deep with anyone. It took everything out of her to stay calm and collected while her brain was racing a thousand miles per hour.

So they both laid there, beneath the sun, and a balcony of leaves that the trees provided. Drinking in the simple sounds of nature and beauty. Because life isn't just people, it's little moments of sanity and happiness in your everyday life. Whether it be dancing at three in morning to your favorite song, or reading a book beside a fireplace.

The world may be bad, but life is good, and it's the little things that brings joy to otherwise bad days.

As we exit the dream of the two companions, we enter the real world. Wherein lies a ravaged living room, a burnt corpse covered by a blanket, and two hybrids, one destined to kill the other. Or perhaps not, as we all write our own stories, and that includes the endings as well.

Sitting in a corner, practically the only place not torn apart, lay two kindred souls. The man rests his head on the girl's shoulders as they both dream of a world much better than the current one.

He, a millennia old hybrid, plagued with fear, doubts, and insecurities. Afraid of what others see him as, and afraid of himself

She, also a hybrid, but perhaps advanced in ways we'll never know. Her mind in alight with ideas, and her heart, a dark place that yearns to maim and kill, like his. Her immense amount of control, and his lack balance each other as much as yen and yang.

And there they sit, in that corner, perfectly at peace, (for now, at least) each hoping that they don't wake up.

Let's not disturb them, shall we?