To Alicia, who is always lovely, and who always listens to my writing moans. ILY darling!
You wait for him.
A white cotton dress flutters around your ankles, borne by the gentle breeze. You have threaded daisies through your hair, their pale, freshly blossomed faces peeking through the red curtain. You wonder vaguely if he’ll notice. Perhaps he’ll sweep you off your feet, peppering your face with kisses. Your cheeks tingle at the anticipation of his lips, and you feel blood rush to the surface.
You wait for him.
The sea ripples before you, the surface marred by undulating waves. They beat against the shore, and you imagine you can hear his voice, whispering in your ear. It rings in your brain, as loud to you as the shrill calls of the circling gulls. The sun that pours down on to the beach will illuminate his eyes. You remember them clearly, sea green shot through with bands of hazel. The rest of him may shift and bend, but his eyes will remain the same.
You wait for him.
You clamber on to the edge of the dock, dipping your feet into the sea. The cool, salt laced water laps at your ankles. The splintering wood is coated in a layer of seaweed, which entwines itself round your fingers. Maybe he will come running up the dock towards you, screaming your name and beaming.
You wait for him.
A shiver darts up your spine in anticipation of his return. You wish to hear his footsteps along the dock, or to hear his voice calling to you from across the beach.
You idly swing your legs, watching as ripples shoot across the heaving body of water. You move them in time to a non-existent rhythm, perhaps the rhythm of your own heartbeat. A breeze is picking up now. It encrusts your lips with salt, which you do not brush away.
You wait for him.
“Rose!” he will shout, running up the sand towards you. He will envelop you in a hug and kiss you, the ridges of his lips melting into yours. He will carry you up the track to your home, up the well worn dirt path that slithers through the forest. His arms will cradle you safely to his chest.
You pace along the beach, impatient now for his return. Your eyes dart every so often back to the sea, and you start to hate him for making you wait. The sun dips ever lower in the sky, and still he does not return.
It is wrong, and he will not come.
You tear the daisies from your hair, throwing them onto the sand. You know he will not step off that boat, and you know he will not sweep you off your feet. You turn back towards the sea, your eyes hoping against hope to see a boat crowning the horizons. Your eyes remain dry for him, because you have not yet accepted. You will wait for him, you will always wait.
The churning seas swallow the daisies, as they did Teddy.
Still, you wait.
A/N- I am incapable of writing fluff. This was meant to be a nice, fluff-filled piece, and instead I wrote this. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway. Please review if you have the time. In case you are wondering, the title is Spanish for 'hope'.
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