As she holds the photo before her face memories come flooding back, like some great body of water. Waves of time long forgotten fill her lungs. Has it really been ten years? Surely the weeks could not have turned into years so quickly...
His face looks exactly the same as she remembers. His smile, the sparks in his eyes. His bangs strewn across his forehead, his expression sure and steady. None of it has changed. And the wounded boy still lurks beneath the surface, silently begging for help; words his mouth would never utter. She still longs to reach out and take away the pain- the torment.
Fate did not allow her to.
Perhaps it never would, no matter how much she longed to.
Did he remember her? Or has she become just a cobweb of a distant memory? Would she ever hear his voice again- hear his words whispered to her, followed by a secret grin?
Brief laughter, hidden smiles, buried anguish. Did they still plauge his dreams as they did hers? she wonders.
She caresses the photo one last time before placing it back in the book, a tear finding its way to the pages before she can snap the front cover shut. Her unsteady hands place it back on the well-worn shelf.
Fate was too cruel.
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