She plucked the petals, one by one, each of them drifting onto the ground beneath her. The swing moved pendulum-like as she swayed slightly. The breeze blew gently, never picking up into a gust. The sunset painted the sky orange; spots of clouds dotted the horizon. The ancient oaks stood quiet in the peace; not a branch creaked to spoil the moment.

Her lips moved as she sang quietly to herself. Her white dress fluttered with her every movement. She had a whole bouquet of flowers, occupying the swing next to her. Plucked white petals scattered beneath her in a circle, resembling a nest of a fairy. Her eyes locked onto the flower, but she did not see it; she was deep in thought. She was an artist; the flower was the piece she was painting, along with the petals. A single tear welled up in her eye.

"May I join?"

She looked up, startled; a young man stood under the arch created by the oaks. He had on slacks, a white shirt, and a tuxedo. His leather belt and shoes were both polished. A corsage decorated his outfit, and he held one in his hand as well.

She smiled. "I thought you wouldn't make it," she said softly. He walked over to her; every step he took felt as gentle as his presence. He leaned down and pinned his corsage onto her dress.

"It suits you." His grinned. He took the bouquet, and offered her his hand; she received it hesitantly, and they both walked to the bench overlooking the makeshift meadow. They had met here, fell in love here, and had their first kiss here. He knew he would find her here. She loved the serene atmosphere. She loved the view; a white house with a fairy-tale appearance made the meadow picturesque during sunsets.

The two sat there together, enjoying the scenery and silence. Both wanted to speak; neither wanted to start. He went to scoop up a cache of the plucked petals, and began to braid them into a necklace. He hummed the same song she whispered; it was a lullaby that he composed, a result of his pianist skills. Finally, he sighed as the sun touched the edge of the horizon. "Why didn't you go to prom tonight? You're already dressed…"

She sighed as well. "You weren't going".

"Ah." He nodded once. "Of course. So then what were you doing?" He changed the subject; he didn't want to go too deep into the issue. He had time, he wanted to treasure every moment of it with her before he moved on.

She didn't speak for a moment. She said every one of her words carefully, "Thinking about why you fell in love with me." Her voice never quaked or quivered. That's what he liked about her; she was strong, even when unconfident.

He chuckled softly as the wind blew gently once again. "Ah. Funny, I've thought about that about you too."

She turned her head towards him on his shoulder. She asked why he never asked her before, when they were together. "I'm sorry about that. But I figured that…you needed to tell me that yourself," he said, without conviction. "To answer your previous question…I don't know. A lot of people have asked me that before, but I could never give them an answer. Friends could guess; family could assume. But I myself have never thought about it. I could never come to a conclusion. I'm attracted to you - physically, mentally, and emotionally."

The sun was half gone by now; darkness was beginning to seep onto the land. The sky turned black, but the early stars shone out. The beautiful thing about this place was: the stars always shine. Always.

"You know I have to go soon." This time, he did not sound as convicting. She slowly nodded, her eyes appearing blank. Of course she didn't want him to leave. But she knew it was futile; he had to. Tears, which had threatened to overflow ever since he had arrived, began to stream down. He held her head, shushing and soothing her. She laid her head on his chest. He said nothing, unable to find any comforting words. It would be a mistake to ignore the truth, he thinks, and sighs.

"Don't sigh." He looked down; her brown eyes, wet with tears, sparkled in the sunlight. "Just enjoy this last sunset with me." He smirked softly, his trademark countenance. She moved her head up to her shoulders; he shifted his head to touch hers.

Time passed; the length was immeasurable when they were together. He stood up slowly, and extended a hand to her. "Care to have a last dance with me?" He smiled naturally. She wiped her tear-streaked face once and received his hand, and they danced; it was their prom night, their last night together. They didn't need music, or extravagances; she knew that as cliché as it sounds, they have all they needed right now. The last bit of sun was about to sink; all light was about to be extinguished.

Her hand slid down his; he took this cue, and they sat down again. Sleep was beginning to possess her, despite fatigue not enveloping her. "Tell me I'm not dreaming…" she murmured. He smoothed her hair and kissed her head. "You're not," he whispered. She had fallen asleep; he watched her and the smile on her face. The sun had completely set by now. He stood up carefully to not disturb her slumber, took off his tuxedo, and wrapped it around her. He walked backwards toward the arch of the oaks, never once taking his eyes off her. His steps were light; they left no print. The darkness eventually swallowed him.

The sun began to rise. Birds sang the morning song. As the first rays struck her, she opened her eyes. She wondered if it was a dream last night; she absent-mindedly removed the tuxedo and grabbed the bouquet. She paced over to the empty area in the center. The petals on the necklace fluttered from her movements. She kneeled down and placed the bouquet in front of a stone slab, not recently buried. "Happy anniversary, love." She stood up, took one last look at the swings, and left through the arch. The wind blew gently, plucking some petals from the bouquet.