Way And Direction

Prologue

He caressed her face. She was crying. He was holding back his tears. She held his hand. He looked into her eyes. Her eyes that couldn't see.

They were sitting at the edge of her bed. Ellie Poppy McAllen and Richard Russell. She felt every emotion, for it was her last time with him. For one last time, they sought refuge with each other. He wanted to take her in his arms and make her his forever. His heart was hurt, for he couldn't.

She felt the creases on his palm and in a cracking voice she said, "These creases that I've memorised, stroked countless times. I find so much of solace in you Mr Russell."

She squealed, she couldn't speak anymore. He couldn't hold it back any longer. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn't want to make a sound though. She half-smiled,"Don't cry. That's my job." He should've known she would see right through his facade.

"Poppy, I-" he couldn't even complete his sentence. He was overcome with his melancholic emotions. "I understand Mr. Russell. You don't have to speak." He felt a relief, because he knew she would understand everything he said or did. He'd always been the strongest one between the two, but today just seemed like Poppy's day. He'd succumbed to the circumstances.

He put his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. She did too, and there was a silence. He ran his hands through her long, black hair. She did the same, through his ruffled, black hair with blonde tint. They'd known each other for 6 years, she just knew where his every feature was. She didn't need to navigate when he was around, he did it for her. She was his way, he was her direction.

They breathed in and out slowly. "Just like this Mr Russell, we shall always stay with each other. Away or near. We'll always reside in here," and she ran her finger down his face and pointed to his heart. He placed his hand on her heart too, and they felt each other's heartbeats. It was all they ever needed.

"Our hearts .." he started and they continued in unison, ".. beat as one." They let out a satisfied, yet difficult laugh. "Will it even beat anymore?" she asked.

"Don't worry. We are one Poppy," he replied. She smiled, she genuinely smiled. Nothing was forced between them, it was real. Their love, their happiness and the eternal sadness.

"I've.. I've got to go now Poppy," he said with a terribly heartbroken voice. He pulled away from her forehead and let go of her hands. She didn't want him to go so soon, but she couldn't do anything. For the last time, she ran her fingers along his eyes, his nose and then his lips.

He felt her fingers, her fragile soft fingers, the indentation she had on her pointer finger. She was pretending to be strong, but she felt no strength at all. He was pretending not to be weak, but all he felt was weakness.

He waited for her to finish and he got up. He had to go at some point. He walked a few steps but something came over him and he bolted back towards her, and wrapped her in the tightest hug ever.

He knelt while hugging her, she was still on the bed. She knew he would come back and hug her and she smiled, reciprocating his gesture.

After some time he withdrew himself from her arms and cupped her face with his hands. "Poppy, this is not goodbye. This is not farewell. It is merely a-" and he paused, not knowing how to describe this, "happy ending."

He smiled and wiped her tears. He got to his feet and walked to the door, and stopped again, looking back at her while holding the frame of the door.

She realised he'd been standing for a few seconds, for she sensed no movement. She looked up and by that he realised he'd been standing there. He breathed in and out.

"You have beautiful eyes Poppy." She smiled, "You have a beautiful soul Mr. Russell."

She waited for a response, but then realised he had already left.