Luce
She had a small smile dancing across her rosy lips.
A smile of knowing, understanding and, above all, loving. The smile was a façade, hiding her true and only feeling, the kind of feeling that a twentyfive years old woman shouldn't feel, suicidal feeling.
She knew, it was the only thing that she believed in, that it was her time. Not to die, she supposed, not to turn to the holy one, but to slowly fading away from her current existent to the next kind. To be another person entirely. Much like reincarnation, though she did not believe it wholeheartedly, but not quite, because she faded away from one identity and transformed into another one. She had to kill her current identity. Her time in their lives were done. She should be living another one right now, leaving Tya, her gypsy identity.
Sometimes it got hard, she supposed, because her identity sometimes could turn into her personality, her own self, but nothing mattered anymore. She was done with this life, not quite literally. She was tired of being someone that wasn't herself, but nobody knew the real her, she could make up a personality and call it as her own self. But no, it was time, she thought to herself.
That night, she started to packing up her things. She dyed her hair to her natural black hair, no longer the bleached blond gypsy. While waiting for her hair to dry, she turned on the music and swayed her body and cried. Her already blotted mascara and eyeliner made lucid treks down her cheeks, she kept brushing it away, making smudges across her cheek and near her temples. With her jet-black dyed hair, ruined mascara and black makeups across her face, she looked like a messed up Goth. She held nothing against Goth, after all she had been a Goth once, but she hated the way she looked, so she quickly cleaned her face and changed her attire from long see-through purple gown and knee-length nude dress to a pair of leggings and sweatshirt. She wanted to be comfortable in her own skin then, even if she currently didn't know who she was and what she was.
A soft knock on her door surprised her, she quickly covered her hair with a worn-looking towel and ran to the door. "Just a minute."
"It's me, Mumford."
"Yeah, I know." she gave a hearty laugh and opened the door.
To say that she was surprised to see Mumford wearing a jacket and a pair of jeans was an understatement. She had never seen anyone in the gathering wear anything resembled what he was wearing right now. "What... what are you wearing?"
He smirked. "What are you wearing?'
She smiled. "Answer for an answer, Mumford."
He raised his right hand and softly caressed her cheek. "I thought we are leaving tonight." he said softly.
"I... I..." she began to say. Tears streaming down to her cheek like her unheard voice, her unnoticed sadness.
"I knew it all along, Luce."
He wrapped himself around her, feeling her sobbed even more. "Sssh... I know. I've always known. You are my long lost love. I know. I almost fucking lost it when you said goodbye, when you said the most heartbreaking words I've ever fucking heard."
"What-- did I say?" she whispered.
He cleared his throat and hugged her even tighter, not letting her go, she buried her face even deeper to his chest. "You said... 'My time in your life is done.' That is the most fucked up thing I've ever heard, Luce. Don't ever fucking say that to me anymore. Promise me."
She continued to sob.
He rocked her gently and squeezed her. "Promise. Me."
"I promise."
"Say it."
"I love you."
He smiled. "Again."
"I love you."
"And again."
She giggled. "I love you."
"And...?"
She pulled back to see his face clearer. "I won't ever leave you?"
He smiled. "And I you."