Dark jade eyes stared out at the waves breaking over the inlet's reef. It was the dead of night, but there was more than enough light streaming down from the heavens, once his eyes had grown accustomed to the dimness. The salt spray carried across the sands, misting his body. On the neighboring shore, a lighthouse sent a warning against traveling too near the perilous cliffs. A deep sigh caught in his throat, and he seemed to search for answers from the pounding surf. One finger hesitated at the bridge of his nose, catching on the slight indentation across the cartilage. He imagined he could see the house across the shore, thinking of what might be going on inside, of the one who might be there. It had been forever, literally. Cutting across untold years in the struggle to find where they belonged, only to realize that in his mind, they only belonged together. There were no flowers on this side of the inlet. Nothing grew in the barren, rocky sand. Comfort in desolation.
Sea-blue eyes stared vacantly out the window of the house. In the midnight he could hear the surf against the cliffs, but the light inside only reflected his scarred visage back to him, the glass showing nothing but eyes vacant and unfocused in thought. He was unable to sleep despite the weariness in his body. Eyes searching in vain for the shore across the harbor, somewhere, in the pitch black past the glare of the lighthouse. A deep sigh caught in his throat, and he looked without hope for consolation from the dead night. Two fingers resting on the bridge of his nose, subconsciously tracing the diagonal scar from forehead to cheek. He imagined that across the harbor would be that familiar presence, the one who could still the longing. It had taken forever, literally. Realizing deep in his heart what had been denied through rage, hidden in anger. There was no beach on this side of the inlet. Nothing but high, unscalable cliffs all around - a veritable fortress. Comfort in isolation.
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