Sworn to Protect | | The Black Widow's Silent Plea

Last edited by on Tue Jan 08, 2008 10:00 pm; edited 1 time in total

"Please, wait! Don’t go!" she pleaded with him, tears running down her puffed cheeks. She broke free from the grasp that was keeping her restrained inside the cottage and ran out the door. She ran across the windy meadows, over the stoned bridge connecting the lands that were separated by the thin river, and past the apple tree just to catch up with him. Her peasant clothes dragged at her sides, and she had a difficult time keeping them in her hands.

"Oh Sapphine..." he murmured under his breath, pulling her into his welcomed arms. He tenderly brought her head into the nook of his neck, and ruffled his fingers through her hair. Atrevin smelled the sweet aroma of her curly locks, and held her body close to his own, breathing in her scent.

"Atrevin, please. Do not leave me! Don’t go. They won’t know. Just stay here," she sobbed into his shoulder, gripping onto his clothes tightly, never wanting to escape his embrace. Her tears slid towards his clothes where they were absorbed, only to be replaced with new tears. The autumn leaves flew in the wind, dancing around their feet. Sapphine’s muffled cries continued, as Atrevin tried to comfort her, but to no avail.

"Sapphine, please. Stop your crying." His open palms held both sides of her face, as he lifted her head away from his chest, and up towards his face. He wiped a falling tear with his thumb.

"I’ll be back. I promise you. Then everything will..." he started, only to be interrupted. Sapphine pushed herself away from him, stumbling backwards. The dance of the leaves stopped.

"Do not promise me that! You can’t predict the future, Atrevin. What if..." he walked towards her, placing both hands on her shoulders.

"Do not say such things! Don’t let the wind hear you! Don’t let it carry your thoughts, and allow them to happen. Promise me that Sapphine, you must!" Atrevin told her, looking around his surroundings. The wind continued to brush past them, and flying leaves frolicked in the air.

"Atrevin..." she paused, wiping away her tears, "I wish I could, I really do. But you know what may happen. That’s why you should stay. Please, I don’t want to become a...a..." Atrevin stopped her words with a kiss. By simply lifting her chin with his curved index finger, he tilted her head towards his, and brushed his soft lips against her own. She whimpered at his affection, knowing that he was limiting the time that they were sharing together. In a short amount of time, he would continue on his way, but she had to stop him. She just had to, but she couldn’t do anything. It would be punishable by death if she did.

"Atrevin, please." She said one last time as their lips parted. She still felt his lips on her own, and still felt the warmth of the kiss through her entire body.

"I’m sorry, Sapphine. I’ll see you after the winter frost. When I come back..." he started, but stopped. Sapphine’s body jolted. She was in a weak and vulnerable state. He couldn’t leave her side. She would be left all alone, with no one but his sister to keep her company.

"When I come back, I’ll tell you all about the wonders of this battle! I’ll tell you about the sword fights we were faced with, and how Fauvus led us to victory! How we were surrounded, trapped on all sides, and how we miraculously..." Atrevin began, his eyes in a daze. He walked around Sapphire, thinking of all the glories of battle. His eyes lit up, but became saddened again, once he saw her expression. He felt as if she didn’t take appreciation to something he wanted, and dreamed of. True, growing up, all he could think was about battle. Once he settled down with Sapphine, she tamed him. Nevertheless, men were always fond of adventure.

"Sapphine, I was given an oath. I have to battle. I’m sworn in to protect our country. I’m sorry, my love. I must go now. Tell Wyoma I’ll see her after winter’s frost. Tell my father that I’m doing a deed to our country. Tell my mother that I love her. And for you, my love. I will see you again. Please, wait for me. Do not forget me. Think about me every second of the day like I will think of you." He brushed her cheek with his thumb and planted them a kiss. He turned around and began on his way. The leaves swirled around his feet, sticking close to him; appearing to guide him safely on his way to the main part of the country, where he would be picked up, trained, and shipped towards the battle front.

Sapphine couldn’t maintain a clear focus on him, because her tears blocked her sight. Her hair blew in the direction of the wind, and she saw the trees bend towards him. She wiped away a tear, as she continued to watch Atrevin until he disappeared over the horizon.

Sworn to Protect | | The Black Widow's Silent Plea

Hours felt like days, and days felt like months since the last time she saw him. She constantly wrote for him, pleading that one day, she would actually get a reply, but it never came. She was in good company, with Wyoma, his sister, who always tried to cheer her up, but she remained in grief. Her daily lifestyle changed, as she chose to linger inside her home, not coming out. Instead, she made Wyoma go to the market to get their fruit and household supplies that was needed on a weekly basis. Sapphine no longer tended to the animals–the cow, horse, and several chickens. Wyoma took on more responsibility, cleaning the cottage, caring for the animals, and nourishing both herself and Sapphine. She didn’t mind, knowing that the distance between Atrevin and Sapphine was really damaging and troubling her.

Sapphine not only changed her lifestyle, but also, her clothes; the color black soon spread on every article of her clothing. During winter’s frost, she began to lose all hope, replaying back in her memory his promise of a safe return, but there was none. Wyoma was upset about Sapphine’s clothes. There were silent disagreements and arguments building up in the house, disagreements between Wyoma and Sapphine that continued to expand each passing hour, until one day, they finally erupted.

"Why are you wearing black, Sapphine?!" Wyoma approached her when she was sitting in the kitchen–at her favorite spot–in her lonely and pale state, staring out the window sill, wrapped in a black shawl. Sapphine slowly turned her head in her direction, towards the noise that disturbed the silence about her.

"What do you mean?" She questioned.

"It’s as if," Wyoma paused, trying to locate her words, "as if you don’t care anymore."

"Wyoma, please..." Sapphine sighed and turned her head back towards the window staring towards the open fields; hoping and longing to see a figure emerge, but still, seeing none.

"No! Do you know what black represents, Sapphine? I know you haven’t given up hope! The battle is not over." She explained to her, softening her words, trying to soothe Sapphine’s troubled, mental state.

"Please, Wyoma. I understand that."
"No you do not! My brother is coming back, you hear? He is coming back! He made a promise, and he’s going to keep it!" Wyoma finalized and walked away, not having the strength to continue talking on the subject of the conversation–her brother’s very own existence.

There were other arguments after the first, and they continued coming. Day after day, week after week, month after month.

Wyoma was finally able to persuade Sapphine to leave the cottage and enter the market, where she could be with other people. Where she could be with other women who felt the same feelings she felt, or maybe even more. She slowly began to leave the house on her own, without Wyoma having to ask her every week. Around the market, she soon became known as the black widow, as all widows were known to wear that disappointed color. The only problem was, it wasn’t proven that Sapphine was a widow, but she constantly wore the black, with all her hopes lost.

She was sometimes looked upon as a disgrace to all women. They couldn’t believe, just like Wyoma, how she could abandon all her dreams, goals, and life. She still had a long life ahead of her but yet, she surrendered away everything that made her. She no longer was able to love. She no longer wanted to love. The sad ideas building in Sapphine’s mind gnawed her body and tormented her thoughts, until she became suddenly ill.

While walking over the stoned bridge to go to the market, she was stricken with cold, and collapsed right in her spot. Her head hit the stone, and a cut appeared on her forehead. Slowly, blood trickled from the cut, sliding down her forehead, and falling on the stone. No one was around to help her and the cold soon consumed her body. Chills shot through her spine, sending her body into a shock. Her bottom lip quivered in the cold and her entire body shivered. The pain on the cut on her forehead intensified, as the winter wind swirled around her. She weakly closed her eyes, ready to be released of her suffering.

Sapphine managed to flip on her back, and she outstretched her arms, only opening her eyes to look towards the seemingly winter clouds. She opened herself willingly to the thought of her own death. It would be only minutes, she knew, before her life on earth would be over. She waited for it–she waited desperately.

The breeze carried the clouds across the country, and the wind continued to pick up. She was cold, extremely cold. Her fingers, not wrapped in knitted mittens, were exposed and numb, and her body, still lying on the cold stone, was shivering. Frostbite was keeping her company on that lonely bridge. She closed her eyes once more, feeling the intense cold overwhelm her weak and fragile body.

Death was coming, she felt it. She smiled for it. She pleaded for it. She laid stretched out on the bridge for it, her black shawl covering only half of her body. She wanted it. Death, she knew, would be the solution to all of her problems.

The only thing is, death wasn’t in store for her. As the wind continued to pick up, and minutes passed which felt like hours, she heard the faint noise of someone’s footsteps on the stone bridge approaching. She managed, with all her strength, to open her eyes. How difficult it was!

When she finally managed, she saw before her the blurry image of a figure approaching. She heard the click of their boots against the stone. She saw their stride, their walk; that held such pose and confidence.

As the figure came closer, she felt even weaker. Her body was lifted from the ground and it was then, she recognized the soft face. She was staring into the eyes of her lover, Atrevin. He had come back for her. Sapphine rested her head on his shoulder, with a smile on her face, as he carried her away with him. She knew that this, what she longed for, was finally the end. She had finally met death.

Sworn to Protect | | The Black Widow's Silent Plea

"Sapphine..." a soft voice had called out to her. Sapphine, in her weak condition, barely heard the voice, as it continued calling her name. The voice seemed to be pleading with her, begging desperately for her to wake up, but Sapphine did not.

"Please Sapphine..." the voice pleaded again, repeating in her ear. Sapphine still did not show any signs of response, as she continued to lay unconscious. Minutes had passed, as the voice tried to awaken her. Sapphine had heard in the depths of her mind, a calling, but she ignored it, as the calling of death seemed much louder and clearer. She went to death’s silent pleas for her to join him, yet, life’s call suddenly became all the more louder. As Sapphine tried to run towards death, it ran away, and life chased after her. Her mere attempts to stay with death, connected with it, near it, so close to it, were taken away from her. She was so close.

Before she knew it, she was alive again, and she pitied herself. She was able to hear the voices calling her name. She unconsciously murmured a few words, not knowing the meanings behind her words, but saying them nonetheless.

"Is she going to be alright?" the voice asked.

"Yes, she is going to be fine. Do not worry," Sapphine recognized another voice. It was deeper than the first.

She stirred. Her arm slid up towards her forehead. She could feel the bandaged wound. Sapphine wiped her forehead, trying to lessen the pain.

"Sapphine, please. Don’t hurt yourself any further," Sapphine was able to identify who the worried voice belonged to–Wyoma.

"She needs to continue resting." Sapphine heard the unfamiliar voice again. She opened her eyes, and focused on the two people standing next to her bed. Her eyesight was still blurry, but in seconds, they adjusted themselves.

She noticed the tall, lean man standing next to Wyoma. His hair was dark brown, curly, and laying on his shoulders. His face bore a very stern, yet, caring look; his eyes blazed a deep blue. He wore a black suit, tie, and she noticed his cane leaning against the wall of her bedroom. Sappine began to scan the room for other unfamilar objects, but her attention was drawn back towards the two when Wyoma called her name.

"Sapphine, this is Dimitri. He’s the one who... saved you. You were almost..." Wyoma cut her words short as soft sobs began to escape her throat.

"Please, don’t worry yourself. She’s fine," Dmitri had assured her, calming Wyoma down by gently placing his hand upon her shoulder. Wyoma turned towards him and smiled, relying upon his assurance that Sapphine would be well. Dmitri moved towards Sapphine, gently placing the palm of his hand over her wet, bandaged forehead.

"She has a fever, but, within due time, she’ll be in stable health." He moved away from the bed and walked towards his cane. He picked it up and was later walked out the house by Wyoma. She bade him a peaceful farewell and offered him some fruit, but, he graciously didn’t accept the offering, and left.

Wyoma later appeared in Sapphine’s room. She noticed the pale, wet, and almost glossy look on her face. She grabbed the wet towel that was inside the hot tub of water on the table, and gently dabbed it on her forehead and on her face. Wyoma then, looking out the window and towards the clouded sky, began to sing a soft hymn.

A hymn that sorrowed over Sapphine’s health and prayed for the safe return of her brother.

Guest

who the hell is dimitri? he tryin to game the mess out of Sapphine. Atrevin need to come back and take this gay nigga out.

Sworn to Protect | | The Black Widow's Silent Plea

The morning light from the sun poured through Sapphine’s window in repeated intervals, glazing over her bed, and rising slowly, until it softly caressed her cheek. She stirred in bed and turned her head towards the left, in the direction of the bend she felt in the bed. Sapphine was greeted by Wyoma, who rested her tired head, which was buried in the nest of her curled arms, on the side of the bed. She saw the chair she sat in, noticed the bucket of now, room temperature water, and saw the towel hanging from the bucket’s edge.

Sapphine was able to conclude that Wyoma must have stayed in her room, tending to her wound which she felt stinging on her forehead. Sapphine slowly raised out of bed, trying to not disturb Wyoma, and proceeded towards the toilette. Her fever was gone, thanks to Wyoma, and the slight headache she had the day before, had vanished. She walked from the toilette and out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her, to not awaken Wyoma.

She was thankful for her care and affection and decided to tidy up their home, a job that Wyoma usually did. She headed first to their kitchen, cleaning and scrubbing the cupboards, washing the tablecloths, and placing silverware in its drawers. Next, she headed towards the guestroom, where she dusted chairs, wiped the tables, and rearranged the books on their shelves. An hour had elapsed before she felt Wyoma’s presence near the entrance of the guestroom.

Sapphine turned around and noticed the pleasant expression upon Wyoma’s face. She had saved her from doing several hours of work, and she was able to manage it in only an hour. Sapphine headed towards the opposite side of the room, grabbed the book that was left on the arm of a chair–Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, the novel that occupied most of Wyoma’s time–and walked back towards the shelf, placing it in an empty slot. When Sapphine turned to look back towards the door, to see if Wyoma was still standing in the same spot, she saw that she was no longer there. How quietly she withdrew!

*

By sunset, Wyoma was sitting quietly in the library, reading from another novel, Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. She sat on one of the smaller seats, not daring to sit in the armchair. That was her brother’s seat. She wanted to keep it available for him; whenever he returned, it would be there, waiting for him. The sunset created a mellow atmosphere within the library and occasionally, Wyoma’s attention would draw towards the window. She would watch Sapphine, sitting in the rocking chair on the porch. She knew what Sapphine was feeling because she felt the same way.

Although Wyoma couldn’t see her face, she knew the expression Sapphine had on it. She knew that there were a few lonely tears sliding down her face. She knew that at that moment, one of Sapphine’s hands clenched at her heart, while the other, was wrapped firmly around her soaked handkerchief.

Wyoma sighed and looked back down at her novel. She couldn’t think about Sapphine. That only brought more pain, more sorrow, more sadness her way. She focused her attention back towards her reading.

*

As Sapphine slowly rocked in her chair, letting her emotions overwhelm her composure, she stared into the distance, towards the opening in the set of trees. Everyday, she would sit there, watching the gap, hoping that one day, someone would come through the trees; hoping one day, it would be her love, Atrevin. Yet, everyday, no one would arrive. No one would come to help settle her tears and stop her crying. No one would come to embrace her, love her, and caress her. She would stare out into the distance, almost set in a trance and her surroundings wouldn’t interrupt her thoughts.

At times, she would watch the sunset. Sapphine smiled at the beautiful colors it displayed in the sky. She loved the hues and colors; pink, blue, and orange. The sun offered her comfort. It presented hope. With each new day, came the sun, and also, possibility; possibility that Atrevin would return; possibility that she would receive his replies; possibility that he was still alive.

Sapphine settled further into thought and hadn’t noticed that a figure emerged from the opening between the trees. She hadn’t noticed, as she watched the sunset, the figure walking down the long and narrow path. She hadn’t noticed it crossing the bridge–the very bridge that she tried surrendering to death. She hadn’t noticed it walking past the apple tree, which, when he passed, seemed to bend in his direction.

She was so mesmerized by the sunset, with its wonderful and calming colors, that she hadn’t even noticed the person passing through their small, white, cottage fence, coming even closer. Sapphine was broken from her thoughts and from watching the sun, when Wyoma came through the door–it closed back sharply, swinging on its crusted hinges, and making a loud, irritating noise. Wyoma stood by Sapphine’s side, smiling down at the guest, who, Sapphine just noticed.
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Sworn to Protect | | The Black Widow's Silent Plea

"Ah, Demetrius!" Wyoma smiled, and slightly bowed her head, offering him her hand, which he shook graciously. Sapphine watched the two. She saw the cane he held in his other hand, the black, leather gloves on both, and his curly brown locks resting on his shoulders. His black, tailored suit, with the crease running down the middle, was very neat and clean. Obviously, she noted, he was from a wealthier rank.

"Good day to you, Ms." Demetrius greeted Wyoma and quickly, brought his focus towards Sapphine.

"How is she feeling?" he asked Wyoma, while still, looking at Sapphine. Sapphine’s eyes caught his stare and immediately, withdrew, looking in the opposite direction.

"She’s much better, sir. Her fever is gone." Wyoma informed him, turning her head towards Sapphine as well. Demetrius shook his head, and walked towards her. Sapphine could see him approaching and hid her handkerchief within the pocket of her dress.

"And how are you today? Ms?" he questioned her.

"I am fine, sir." She replied, answering his question. She still held her head the other way, not looking at him. She could feel the dried tears on her cheek and hoped that he hadn’t noticed them.

"Your fever is gone, I’m informed." He stated, repeating what Wyoma told him, and observed Sapphine. She nodded her head in agreement.

"So, your health is better, I presume." Again, she nodded her head.

"Your fever is gone, your health is better, yet, your eyes are slightly red and puffy. It is evident that you’ve been crying in solitude." He quickly concluded. His observations were helpful enough; he saw her sitting alone on the porch, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief when he was walking towards their cottage. "What ails you?" Demetrius question stirred her.

"There is nothing the matter." Sapphine quickly answered, hoping to set closure to his curiosity, but only arousing more.

"You cry and say there is nothing the matter?" Demetrius mocked her, knowing that the truth was not escaping from her lips.

"Yes." Sapphine continued looking out into the distance.

"Although your head is turned, I can see your pain and your suffering written on your face. What bothers you, my child?" he questioned her softly, and kneeling down on one knee, with the support of his cane, he took her left hand into his own. He softly kneaded her fragile fingers with his thumb.

Wyoma, standing speechless, left the scene, quickly hurrying inside of their home. She returned back to her novel, sitting uncomfortably and repeatedly, looking back towards the two, staring out of the window.

"What bothers me is nothing to your concern." She attempted to take back her hand, but he continued to hold it. She felt the warmth of his hands flow onto hers.

"Will you not tell me?" He already knew the answer, and tightened his grip. Sapphine shook her head, letting him know her thoughts were not for him to know. He pressed on, determined to know the issues concerning her dried tears and depressed look.

"Will you continue crying in solitude or will you finally realize that you need someone to cry with?" he asked. His advance startled Sapphine and she shook while in his hold. He rested his cane against the cottage wall, and placed his other hand within the grasp that connected the two.

"H-How did you know?" Sapphine quietly spoke, feeling weakened at how a complete stranger knew her feelings and seemed to read her mind.

"So I am correct?" he smirked. Sapphine finally turned her face towards him and grimaced. He had tricked her! A smile spread across his lips, and he rose up, standing at his full height.

"Come," he gestured, releasing one of his hands from hers, "let’s take a walk."

Sapphine shook her head, wanting to stay in her seat and not wanting to walk with a stranger. She stood from her seat, but didn’t move any further. Demetrius, who began down the porch, stopped, aware of the restrain, and turned towards her.

"I will not walk with you." She stated.

"You’d rather be alone?"

"Yes." Sapphine moved her eyes to look into his and she captured his gaze. His blue, strong and sharp orbs met her brown and soft eyes. Although she knew he could clearly see her puffy cheeks and dried tears, she did not care. She wanted him to know that she wanted to be alone, and she knew he would understand if she finally drew her full attention to him.

He stared at her, still, with his hand wrapped around hers. He saw the strength in Sapphine, but also, the weakness. He wanted to develop a relationship with the woman; he just didn’t want to be known as her rescuer. He wanted to understand her pain, understand her sorrow. He knew, by staring at her face, that it would take time.

"Very well then." He released his hold, skipped up the stairs, grabbed his cane, and skipped back down. He faced her and a courteous smile spread across his lips. He bowed to Sapphine and she stood there, unsure of whether to return it.

"Until we meet again." His smile played in her memory as she watched him walk off–past the bending, apple tree, across the stoned bridge, down the narrow path, threw the gaping trees, and out of sight.
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Sworn to Protect | | The Black Widow's Silent Plea

Several days had passed since Sapphine and Wyoma last seen Demetrius. His last visit startled Wyoma. He expressed such interest to Sapphine and she wasn’t sure if he was either just following up on her health or growing a liking towards her. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Around the house, Sapphine continued her life with Atrevin flooding her mind and thoughts. She couldn’t keep his face out of her memories. His scent still floated around in their bedroom, laying on the sheets and on his clothes hanging in the wardrobe. His portraits decorated the wallpapers in most of their rooms, hanging on thin nails.

Once Sapphine had walked inside of the library, to find a novel that Wyoma had wanted, and stumbled upon a picture of her love. The photo had dropped from in between the pages of the novel, obviously set as a bookmark. When Sapphine reached down to pick up the photo, her eyes had immediately swelled up with tears, reminiscing of the event that took place in the picture. Although the photo was sepia colored, Sapphine could make out all of the brilliant and bright colors she had seen that day, when the two of them, Atrevin and Sapphine, had first laid eyes on their cottage–their new home. Sapphine had hurriedly stuffed the photo back inside of the book, not wanting to think of old memories, and threw the book to Wyoma who sat in the kitchen, fixing tea.

*

On the day that Demetrius did return, Sapphine sat before the grand piano, running her fragile fingers along the black and white keys, hesitant about playing. Wyoma sat only a few feet away from her, with her face buried beneath the pages of a new book of interest. The chime inside of their house signaled, and Wyoma, stood from her seat and walked towards the door. She came back, with Demetrius trailing behind her, his eyes wandering everywhere but in front of him--looking at the many articles inside of their home.

Because Sapphine’s back faced the door, she hadn’t noticed he was within the room. She heard the slight cushioning of the chair, as Wyoma took her regular seat, but hadn’t heard the soft footsteps of Demetrius’ shoes approaching behind her; coming closer to her position, and stopping immediately behind her.

With a moment’s hesitance, Sapphine, irregardless of Wyoma’s reading, began to play a musical tune from the grand piano. Her fingers smoothly glided over the keys, playing chords and notes, from octave to octave. The keys played out soft and her body danced on the piano bench to the flow and rhythm of the song. Her treble fingers began playing the highest of notes, as the song started off with hope, but soon, they dramatically fell towards the bass notes, as only one of her hands were left playing the keys. The song ended suddenly and dreadfully–the last note that was played, Sapphine’s finger still rested on the key, staring at it. Her life was a part of the song and the song, was a part of her life.

She continued staring at the key, unaware of Demetrius glancing over her shoulder, staring at the same key she was staring at. When the song ended, Wyoma diverted her eyes from her book, and towards the two; Demetrius’ frame bending over Sapphine’s; Sapphine’s finger still pressed on the key, unaware of his presence.

"Sapphine..." Wyoma broke the silence, wanting to inform her of Demetrius.

Sapphine drew her head around and was surprised to find their guest standing behind her. How close he was!

"D-Demetrius..." Sapphine stammered and shot up from her seat. He had stumbled upon one of her hidden interests. She didn’t want him to know anything about her. Since his last visit, there was so much of her that he found out that she didn’t want him to know.

"You’re pretty good." Demetrius commented on her playing and swivelled on his heel, his eyes watching her move towards a seat of her own, away from him.

"Thank you, I’ve been practicing." She briefly stated head bent, facing the floor. She reached over towards the table, picked up a needle, and began embroidering black roses upon a pillow cloth.

"But you lack with proper finger placement and positioning." Demetrius started and took his seat at the piano bench, sweeping back his coat tail.

"Excuse me?" She was surprised at his new comment. Her fingers stopped embroidering abruptly, and her needle was in the middle of creating a new petal on the rose.

"Your finger positioning is very poor and inadequate. While you’re supposed to have your fingers relaxed over the keys, your fingers are stiff and rigid. You need more practice." His words tore her apart.

How cruel they were!

Her cheeks shone a bright red and she threw the embroidery down. Lifting up the hems of her dress, she walked towards the piano and shoved her hands in front of his face.

"These are the fingers of a woman who has taught herself the piano!" She shouted, making an excuse for her lack in finger positioning.

"You call that your excuse?" He chuckled and turned in his seat. He sat with his back perfectly straight, feet placed firmly on the ground, and began playing the same musical tune Sapphine played. His fingers ran across the keys with better ease, better precision, more accuracy, and moreover, better placement and positioning. His playing overwhelmed her own.

"I’ve only played for three years." Sapphine continued, still making excuses to clear herself from his reproach.

"I’ve only played for two and a half." He spat back.

"But...you’re of a wealthier class! A wealthier rank!" Sapphine felt the tension between the two of them rising. She knew their current argument was a competition. She wanted to prove herself a winner; something that would make herself feel strong in a time still of weakness.

"Of a wealthier class?! How preposterous! Don’t blame my class for your lack of adequacy!" He stood from his seat, standing tall above her. She felt herself standing small in his shadow. She gazed into his eyes, and saw the sharp, piercing look he gave her. Those tantalizing blue eyes! Immediately, she felt a wave of inferiority flush over her, and she shrank back. Wyoma watched the two and sat amazed. Her book lay to her side with the pages open, and spine pointed upwards. She sat with one of her legs folded under the other. Her eyes were wide and soon widened when she witnessed Sapphine walk from the room, and onto the porch–she watched her walk down the porch steps and down the path, leading away from their home.

Wyoma glanced towards Demetrius and saw him still standing, fist balled to his side, teeth gritted, and anger and shame etched on his face. His brown locks covered his face. She watched him and he felt her gaze. A minute passed, with the repeated ticking of the clock disturbing the silence at second intervals. When another minute went by, Demetrius walked out of the room, grabbed his cane, and walked out the door.

The door slammed shut behind him, and she watched as he skipped down the steps and headed down the path, towards Sapphine.
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Krystal:
Wow. Playing the music really does place you in the story. This was just amazing.

ECSTASY-->larissa:
Ok can you post everything until she like gets knocked out and wakes up in the bed..i think...damn did i giv some away!...ahahahahah..lol.

swagger__x.:
My my! Brittany you have a true talent for writing. My god. I envy you so much right now, your my new writing idol. Everything was so intriguing. The description drew me in. I could actually feel the wind, the passion, the intensity! I feel so bad for Sapphine. Very creative name Brittany, I mean really. I`m so speechless I`m sorry. Every word was amazing. Add more, please.

No Rating

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Subject: Tryin 2 Save Myself ; Taylor's Review Sat Aug 02, 2008 10:11 am

The banner reminds me of Little House in The Prairie lol. It's cute.

At first it seemed as if Sapphine was running from danger, because of how fiercely she was running, but then it became clear that she was running to her husband. That is just too sad. I always wonder how he women back then reacted when their husbands was force to fight in the wars, and now I see. She is completly devestated, and Atrevin on the other hand is excited, too excited! I hope he does come back able to speak about all the adventure. I donk Sapphine would be able to go on knowing that her husband died to protect and serve his country.
I love the way you has expressed each event that took place, it was like a movie playing in my head, everything made sense, it fit perfectly. This was my favorite line, "Do not say such things! Don’t let the wind hear you! Don’t let it carry your thoughts, and allow them to happen. Promise me that Sapphine, you must!" it was beautiful to picture.
Hope you update soon!!!

-Taylor
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