truce//halianna

7 Riptide

When we married I thought nothing bad could happen, we would live to be eighty, old, in rocking chairs talking about life and places we wanted to go, but that was not the path intended for us, our road was to be the sharp edge of a knife. Love is like that, it's a game of resilience and defense. If you can survive it, it can be a beautiful thing, like a rose, thorns prick you and harm you, but it is one of the most beautiful flowers, reminds me of our wedding. We had purple roses everywhere it made Halia very happy and if she's happy I'm over the moon. But roses wilt over time, they crack, the colours fade and all beauty is drained. A rose represents love for a reason, the hurt, the beauty and the inevitable wilt.
I sat playing with wiskets, his black fur between my fingers. The cat purred, his body vibrating to let me know he was happy. I rose to my feet, patted the cat and walked inside. The loss of light was sudden and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust, it was at that point I realized my glasses were still on my bedside table, I quickly walked over and grabbed them from the messy pile of mugs, drawings and paint. I exited the room and slowly made my way downstairs, Halia stood waiting for toast to pop up. Every five seconds checking it and swearing when it wasn't done, "I swear to fucking god" she shouted after four more checks, "language!" Her eyes glanced over at me, I felt as though I was going to scream, it never really sunk in I met my wife online, I'm glad for whatever brought us together.
Once Halia was finished making two plates of toast, which of course she swore her way too. "Where the hell did you get a cat before twelve!" I asked excitement filling my voice, "lady next door gave 'em to me" a smile on her face. "oh my god, wanna go to the beach?" "Stupid question" she said getting up and washing her plate.
She clasped my hand and lay her head on my shoulder. The rain slowly dropping on to the wet sand, the rain was a strangely calming thing, the noise of drops hitting of roofs and collecting in objects left in its path to the ground. No one was out here, except for us. Normal couples prefer the sunset or a sunrise, for us it was the rain, it's noise, the cold sensation of water bringing your senses to life. This was happiness. Our special were not because of what was said, but because of what was happening, just the others presence was perfect. I could be on my deathbed and if she asked me to go to the beach I damn well would go. That was all that was needed. All that is still needed, just not in ready supply.
But nonetheless our relationship is one of silence, one that plays games with raindrops on a window. A groan came from Halia, she held my hand in one hand, in the other she clutched her chest, her groans of pain snapping me out of my happy trance. "Halia? Halia are you okay!" The serenity leaving the scene, panic filling my voice. "Let's go in inside, bean" she said walking up the beach toward our home.