They were sad eyes. He could see that all too clearly. They were the eyes of a screaming and struggling soul. Deep and dangerously clear eyes drilled into creamy colourless skin, cloaked by a thick curtain of long black hair. But he was always drawn back to those frightening blue eyes.
A burst of searing heat ran up his arms.
Electric, he thought, awed. Totally electric.

They were uncomfortably perched on a crumbling cliff face, staring up into the vast expanse of sweet reddening sky, illuminated by the setting sun. The clouds were painted fresh pale pink and orange, glowing against the huge canvas of sky. They breathed in huge gulps of cold, sharp air, heels perched on lower ledges, hands clinging onto the rocky surfaces. He stared down at the vast and barren expense of land below his battered sneakers.
Ash cleared his throat noisily. The silence was heavy, musty, like the weight of old curtains. He felt like he couldn't bear that suffering weight any more. He stole a glance at Christina. The eyes he wanted to look at so much were hidden by her hair. Ash had the urge to push her hair back from her face. Chop it off. Shave her head. Anything so he could look into her eyes.
'He's....he's the only one I've got,'� she murmured suddenly.
Ash bit his lip. Nodded, silently acknowledging the reference to her grandfather. He was old and sick; dying slowly (painfully slowly...or...was it maybe painfully fast? They both felt the same) from lung cancer. Christina had lived with her grandfather for a long time, ever since her parents physically abused her, and she loved her grandpa more than anything, anyone else. He was her heart.
'Ash...he's the only one I've ever had. Ever will have.'�
She knew (all too well) that he was dying. It was an unspoken presence, another musty curtain, which made her sleep uneasy every night. Toss and turn. Howl and whimper. Shake and shiver. Her fear lived in flesh.
Ash contemplated uneasily.
What was he supposed to say?
'He..he..might be okay.'�
Hmm. Ash had never been a good liar.
At his words, Christina ran her slender fingers through her hair.
'Shut up. J-just shut up.'� Her voice shook. 'Don't lie to me. The....the doctors....they said he only had a little while. Maybe less than a week. I don't know.'� She lifted her head to meet his eyes.
Finally.
Her gaze was like one of a rabbit frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car. Ash was drowned in the gaze of those cold blue eyes, like Artic ice. Inwardly, he shuddered. He'd wanted her to look at him, but when she did, it scared him.

The silence settled over them again as their eyes held.
Ash hugged her, reaching out to her. It was comically awkward and boyish, but enough to make her cry. Deep shuddering sobs. Strange for her slender frame.
She couldn't handle this, Ash realised. She wouldn't handle it when (if?) her grandfather died. After all, there was no one else in this miserable world. Ash was only sixteen, like her. He was only a friend. In this place, friends never lasted. You loved them while they were there, and then forgot them as they drifted away. O, it was a sad, lonely existence. A pathetic existence, almost.
But, then again, it wasn't really an existence at all...

He felt the curve of her body under his tanned arms, and raised her face to his. Something inside him stirred. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and hugged her again (was that me or did she smile when I kissed her? he thought, hopeful), feeling the vibration of her sobs. But then he realised her phone was vibrating in the breast pocket of her shirt. He gently let go of her, pointed to her pocket. He was shaking slightly. What did that kiss mean to me? He wondered. But a part of his mind knew. He loved her. Somehow, that hurt him. It ripped wounds through his heart, it injected poison and burned and seared and charred the flesh. But hadn't some unexplained part of him always loved her? Loved her (but didn't the word 'love'� seem so inadequate?) but never been able to say it?

'Phone.'�
She removed the phone from her pocket, staring at it in the palm of her hand with huge hurt (but also insanely murderous) eyes, and placed the receiver to her ear.
Ash saw her mouth the word hospital and his eyes boggled slightly. He watched, numb, as her own eyes boggled and her mouth whispered answers to questions. He watched her shake, his love cracking and crumbling and shattering as fear wrapped bony fingers and squeezed.
In one, fluid movement, she stood up on the cliff, and with a grunt of exertion, hurled the phone into the depths of the wasteland below. Ash heard the faint splinter of shattered plastic.
A strong, fresh tendril of fear sprouted in the depths of his stomach.
'Christina...'�
He looked on in dumbfounded silence as she stood, defiant, and began to scream. The wind picked up, blowing back her hair brutally. Her scream was of pure animal terror, it seemed to rip the fibres of the dusky sky. It chilled Ash down to the marrow of his bones. She kept right on screaming, ripping and tearing that cursed curtain of silence. The sound was raw and inhuman, dying and desolate. 'Why, Jesus, why pick me? I ask you, why me?'� Christina howled. The craziness in her voice was fathomless.

Ash's mind froze. When he tried to speak, his voice was a toad's croak.
He's..not....'�
'YES! YES, he is! An empty, silent lifeless shell! He has deserted me!'�
No! No...he...'�
God cursed me! You hear me Lord? You hear me mighty good and mighty loud? You cursed my sorry bones!'�

Her voice rattled and resonated in every pebble, every stalk of grass, every crusty branch. It boomed through the wastelands, ten times louder than before. The harsh desperate ring in Christina's voice almost deafened him. Her willowy, beautiful frame was defiant, her hands ripping at her hair, her mouth an 'O.'� Despite his numbing fear, Ash wanted to grab her and hold her. But he didn't. He covered his ears and trembled. Trembled, watching her lose control as the sun slowly sunk, leaving behind a clear and starry sky.
The stars winked at them. Were they laughing? Actually laughing?
'I defy you, miserable stars!'� Christina sobbed. She tottered on her feet and sat back down, tears trailing down her cheeks. 'You never did anything but scorn me!'�

She breathed shallow, ragged. As her breathing rate returned to normal, she threw her head back and gazed at the stars, tiny glistening diamonds scattered against a backdrop of black velvet. As Ash nervously examined the dark contours of her face, he saw a horrifying hardness come over her. She turned to him. Smiled. His gut writhed.
What the hell?
'Ash...'�
She took his face in her hands, and kissed him, tenderly, then hard and desperate. He kissed her back, just as desperately. They held each other, kissed and cried. He felt how desperate she was in her kisses, and he wrapped his arms round her. He was sad for her. So sad.
He felt a sudden burst of fear, but then it was replaced by the strongest sense of insane happiness he'd ever felt.

Then she stood. His guts suddenly twisted painfully, churning in the fresh and fragile silence. He felt small at her feet. He was a big, strong guy, but he still felt small at her feet. His emotions took a sudden change.
There was a quiet resignation about her now, a sort of acceptance to a defeat. It scared Ash till he felt like he was going to be sick. Like a queen, she stood regal. Her hair blew about her face, and there was colour high up in her cheeks; fresh roses were blooming there. She looked so beautiful. So beautiful. He wanted to kiss her again. His lips felt dry.
'Ash?'�
Ash found that he couldn't quite breathe right. He swallowed and rubbed his green eyes.
'Y-yeah?'�
D'you believe in heaven? Hell? Both? Neither?'�
Uh...never really thought about it...'�
Christina nodded, like she totally understood. And maybe she did. Maybe that was what made it so frightening. The fact that she seemed completely sane, but at the same time, her eyes betrayed the hounds of Hell panting for release.
Her voice was quiet, controlled. She peered down thoughtfully, her toes skimming the edge of the cliff.
'Ash....when I kissed you, under this blackened sky...I realised I loved you...but maybe not enough...maybe I'm not good enough for you...I wasn't good enough for Grandpa...'�
In one thudding blow, Ash realised her motive. The tendril in his stomach bloomed and blossomed into a flower reeking of something too familiar.
Death?

No...'� He grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back. Christina shook her head and pulled away roughly from him. She was strong.
'Ash...there are other worlds than these...we shall be met, well met, there.'�
Her words were serene and meditative, carried to his ears by the rattling wind.

"But, remember, I do love you. I never knew I did, but I love you."
She stepped forward.
A tiny step. But enough. Just about enough.
Ash heard himself scream, heard the sickening crack like an egg smashing.
CRRACK.
His wavy blonde hair was soaked in lusty (and fearful) sweat, his guilt was drowning him. He was thankful for the dark. He didn't want to see the small, crushed body. Didn't want to see the hyenas who would soon come to feast. Rip her. Tear her. Leave the bones for the vultures to pick at.

Her words rang like bells in his ears, as he sobbed in shock. He felt the imprint of her mouth on his, the touch of her cool hands on his face, his back, his arms. He shuddered. Frightened.
Her words... 'There are other worlds than these...I love you'�
And somewhere, Ash heard a wolf howl. And tasted the bitter kisses on his lips.

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