Sorry for Love: by PrayingForAngels
"It's a surprise."
Being blindfolded, the girl couldn't see anything. She was wearing a simple black dress, with white pearls sewn in a pattern of swirls down the side. It had one strap on a shoulder, leaving the other one bare, showing off the bronze tan that she had naturally. Her hair glistened in the moonlight, sending soft waves declining on her back, straps criss-crossing. She felt her heels being taken off, and set aside.
Stepping hesitantly, grains of sand swept her feet, and, knowing what she was walking on, put on her full body weight. Being guided by the man of her dreams, she seized his hand and he pulled her close to him. His eyes lit up just looking at her face. Beryl eyes skimmed the features of the girl, no, woman, that held his arm tightly. A smile played on her full, rouge lips, baring perfect white teeth. Jawline defined her oval shape, with a slightly pointed chin. In his mind, she was beautiful, no matter what she said. The dress that she wore for the occasion clung to her body, accenting her curves that she had strived for.
'She's going to love this' he thought as he told her to wait for a moment. He watched her as she was fiddling with her hands and the hem of her dress, obviously nervous and anxious for the surprise. He slipped off his shoes and tuxedo jacket, and lit two candles on the table meant for two. A single gold rose lay in the middle of the table, seperating the candles. Wax stated to drip from the pool near the wick. Pasta waited patiently, steam rising into the midnight sky.
"Ready?" He took her hands lightly in his, leading her to the table. His voice was soft and gentle, like the waves accending and decending on the sand bank.
"Ready, my love." rang a voice so sweet, like the taste of honeycomb from a bee hive.
"Your surprise awaits, your majesty." Withdrawing the blindfold, she gasped in awe and shock as she surveyed the landscape. The high seas looked so serene. The waves lapped pleasantly on the sand, exposing shells along the way. Catching sight of the table and chairs, she squeaked in excitement and jumped into his open arms. "Thank you," she whispered intimately in his ear, circulating shivers up and down his spine.
Snapping out of his trip down memory lane, he gazed intently at the beauty that sat before him. She accommodated the bench across from him, her eyes averted to the cup of black coffee that she held in her hands. Her obsidian hair with scarlet highlilghts dulled from the light in the coffee shop. Cinnamon eyes looked up at his beryl ones, shaded with worry and grief.
"Haimi, what's wrong?" The 19-yar-old guy questioned, lacing his words with worry and love. He reached out to caress her skin, but she sank into the bench, like he was something to be afraid of.
"Ryan, please don't." Haimi's eyes started to tear up, and threatened to spill over. She wiped them away quickly, not wanting for him to see the pain she was suffering.
Ryan, catching Haimi off guard, rested his hand on her open palm. She flinched at first, then relaxed. 'Why? What am I doing. If I love him so much, then why am I doing this?' She mentally scolded. She must've been frowning, because she heard his deep voice narrated, "Please tell me baby."
"Don't call me that," she hissed a little too harshly.
He retired, but not without casting a nervous and worried glance at his goddess. 'Why is she acting this way? Did I do something wrong?'
'Better do it now, or else it will be harder' she groaned mentally. "Ryan..."
Tears now glided down her cheek, mascara running along.
He waitied patiently. He knew not to console her when she had something important to say. Instead, he twirled the velvety box in the pocket of his coat, knowing that he was going to go down on one knee soon, and ask her for her hand in marriage.
But the tears running down her cheeks was killing him.
Finally managing to find her voice again, Haimi sobbed, "Ryan, I'm sorry." Leaving her coffee where it sat, she fled from the shop, onlookers giving a passing glance at the girl jogging down the busy street.
Paying for both of their coffees, he walked out of the cafe and down to the florist. Waltzing in, the woman behind the counter asked, "What can I get for you, sir?"
Eyeing the assortment of roses, he said softly, "Get me a dozen roses."
"Yellow, and white, and pink." He fetched for his wallet as she rang up his bill.
"Not a traditionalist, are you?"
Giving her the cash, she assorted the bouquet and handed it gingerly to him. He thanked the woman, and set off to Haimi's apartment.
"Coming!" Wiping her eyes and mascara away, she opened the door to reveal a variety of yellow, white, and pink roses. 'My favorite' she thought as she picked them up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Noticing the note, she opened it and read:
But I'm not sorry for my love
I'm not sorry for my touch
The way I made your hands tremble
And my heart rush
I would do it all again
Wouldn't take back a thing, no
'Cause with you I've lived
A thousand lives in one
And I could never be
I could never be
Sorry for love
hope you enjoy! r&r please!