[Author’s Note] This could be a sequel to Wind. Or a completely different fic. Whatever you want. I like to leave the options open… Let me know if you liked it ~


Blown Away


The young man walked up the gravel path slowly—his hands in his pockets, his hair in his eyes. He glanced at his watch and paused for a minute outside the church. Uncertain. Unsure.

Dust swirled around him as the wind blew, taunting him with its silent song. Chuckling softly, it whispered secrets and rhymes—twisting its way in and out of his head.

For a minute it felt almost unreal. For a minute he felt that perhaps he ought not to have come. There was too much at stake.

He had been invited, of course. Although it was awkward, it had been the polite thing to do. He knew that.

He stood there uncertainly—silently silhouetted against the steps. It would be easier if he didn’t go in. Easier for them. Easier for him.

He moved towards the window, and looked inside. He was on time. He could see the bride walking down the aisle, her shining hair muted by the creamy veil.

He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was smiling.

The wind caught at his jacket, pulling him away. He could hear it, gently telling him to turn away. Before it was too late. Before he watched her go.

The groom stood by the altar, watching her walk up towards him, his face both nervous and happy.

He bit his lip hard. That should have been him up there with her. It could have been him.

He brushed away the voices that warned him to stop. To let go of the past. To forget.

There are some things you never stop needing.

The boughs above him moved silently together, spilling the fading golden light onto his shoulders. The wind tousled his hair gently, caressingly, as he thought of her.

They had been so happy together. He knew that. She had gotten over her previous heartbreak, and he had slowly come to care for her. Deeply. Completely.

Then he had come back again.

He shook his head as he remembered how he had thought she was over him. So had she.

He should have known better.

As time passed, she had become distant and insecure. He had heard her crying in the nights and tried to hold her.

But she had simply turned away.

He felt a sudden chill in the air, and shivered slightly. He could hear the wind—cajoling and pleading, twining around him seductively—begging him to leave.

He could see her now—her veil thrown back, her hair lustrous in the candlelight. He blinked back a tear quickly. He had always loved her hair.

There was an eerie silence as the wind died down for a minute. Not a whisper or a hiss. He could feel the expectant stillness, like the calm before a storm.

He watched from his corner as they repeated their vows. He closed his eyes for a minute as he sadly wondered again, what it was that had made her choose him instead.

Both the young men were as different as night and day, and had hated each other from the time they were children.

But he knew that they had both loved her.

And now all he could do was watch, as he lost the only thing he had ever wanted.

The wind spoke again, its voice rising in a whispering, crackling, sighing and chuckling of hidden vowels and consonants. He felt a sudden tug at his clothing, a murmur of something, a throbbing deep in the soft air—like a heart.

The groom slid a thin gold band onto his bride’s finger, and smiled at her. Tossing autumn her hair over her shoulder, she smiled back at him.

Standing in the shadows, he saw her face when she looked up at the boy he had always despised, and it cut into his heart. She had never looked at him that way.

So that was love.

He watched as they kissed, and turned away. His breath caught in his throat as he realized that there was nothing he could do now.

He walked away slowly. Unwillingly. Achingly.

For the first time it had finally sunk in. He had lost her forever. And he knew somehow, that she was happier than she had ever been before.

The wind blew around him one last time, and then the voices in the air were gone. Suddenly his head was ringing, not with dizziness but with sudden clarity.

This wasn’t the end. He would move on, he knew it.

After all, he was the boy who lived. He could surely live through this.


-fin-