twistedrose
It was the greatest shock to her system that Valeriya had ever experienced. In her home by the ocean she had lived in luxury, never missing meals and always having a clean (and fasionable) gown to wear the next day. Despite her parents' neglect, she had never imagined life lived as the poor family in front of her did.
She wasn't a maid, wasn't a servant, wasn't a slave.
She was a proud woman, and he couldn't take that away from her.
He remembered the way she would wear her dad's old army cap, tilted to the side, the faded green accenting the forest color of her eyes. He held it tenderly in his hands as he made his way up the church isle. He would not look into the coffin, for fear of bursting into tears in front of the entire congregation. Instead Jack pulled the worn out old hat onto his own head in just her way - a salute to her.
He would forever be there, she thought, as he leaned in to kiss her again. She responded robotically, not really caring as she realized the implications. She would forever remember him as her first, her first everything. He had carved his way into her heart, and no amount of sanding it down would erase that.
Ew, he was so old.
Still, she couldn't help smiling as he shakily gripped her hand.
"Why don't we go outside and look at the flowers, Mr. Roland?" she asked him sweetly.
Behind that smiling face, you can see the wheels turning. Behind that charming smile, venom awaits to poison you. Behind her bright eyes glints the cunning wit of a liar.
His skin was so soft, like gently crushed velvet. She couldn't stop touching it as he pressed kisses into her hair. She smelled it, pressed her nose into his collarbone, was blown away by the subtle sweetness of him.
The music blared from her old stereo, she sipped a cherry limeade from a straw, and her boyfriend leaned in for a salty kiss. She threw her head back, feeling the sun warm her dark hair, and thought with pure happiness: this is how life should always be.
"The tides are changing, with every breath we take, every move we make, and every heart we break. They are changing faster than the seasons, more unpredictably than the weather. The tides are changing, and whether for the worse or for the better, I cannot say for sure."
Teenagers. He hated them.
Change. Psh. What did they know about change, about revolution? Nothing. He'd seen it time and time again. Eventually the world would harden them, give them a sense of realism.
Teenagers and their rebellion. Psh.
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