《Arrows & Anchors (SAMPLE)》"Color Without a Name" (Brooke's Journal Entry)

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Dear Julian,

As I write this, you're laughing hysterically at Monty Python. We are on a private jet to an unknown destination. Well, unknown to me, at least. But I'm more than okay with that, because I'd go anywhere in the world with you. I wanted my first page in this notebook to be a letter to you, the only man I'll ever love. You will never see this, but still. There are a few things I want to say to "you."

First, I have to thank you again for this beautiful journal, and the fountain pen I'll use to stain its sheets. You know me so well. I hope the hundred or so blank pages will be enough to fit all my thoughts.

How did I get so lucky to find you, Julian? I have wondered this every day since I met you, but last night this question was echoing louder in my busy mind. Tiny, cold flecks of white fell atop your head, and stuck to your eyelashes. They melted almost instantaneously under your eyes, as I always do, and never before had I so much wanted to be a snowflake.

Some blizzard crystals kissed your cheeks, too. It's not rational to be jealous of frozen droplets, but I longed to know how it feels to dissolve into you.

To become an actual part of your body.

It was because of those tiny flakes kissing your skin, though, that I discovered a new color with you last night. There's always been shades of red in the world, plenty of them, and we all know them. Rose and jam and cherry and scarlet. But the shade that filled your cheeks in the chill of London's night air was something entirely new to my eyes. More vibrant than any garnet. More mysterious than any merlot. Brighter than any crimson. And more lustrous than any ruby.

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Nobody will ever know that remarkably distinct color except me, so maybe it doesn't need a title. Labels are for discussing with others, to make them understand something, and selfishly, I don't want them to. I'd like to keep it as my own little secret. But if that beautiful hue had a title, I think it would be your name.

Yes, it fits perfectly. It rolls off my tongue, like the gentle ocean ripples that usually separate us.

But not now. You're here. And I'm here.

You just fell asleep, only a few feet away from me, and you look so peaceful, Jules. Peaceful enough that I couldn't bear to wake you, even though I miss your eyes already.

How is it that you make even the sound of snoring sound like lullabies? As if the vibrations themselves are the world's reminder that it's good to rest sometimes, because even the lightest of spirits could always use some more serenity. Some more tranquility to keep in their back pocket, for a time when things aren't so peaceful anymore.

I'm starting to get sleepy, too. And the spot next to you looks cold. I think I'll fill it now.

I just want you to know that, even though I have no idea where we're going, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

- B

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