Ashy remains of a bleak scenary.

Another day, another waking moment where I would see her pristine face again. 

This time around, I would not be at the company -- my assistant would be at the office for me. Good grief, this was the least I could do, before watching her falter away in the night, in this blooming cycle that seemed endless. The locket is the one thing that she has been clinging onto, recently. I checked upon it yesterday, to see the reason of such an attachment before my very eyes. Inside the locket, there was a photography of her with Mr. and Mrs. Dieot, as well as her brother, Austin.

It seemed like she really cared about them. A lot. Even with being so distant from them. The poetry in all that unfolded before me was the shape of the pendant; a heart, as if to represent her love and compassion for these people she grew up with. It was as if, even at Ocean City, they were still there, with her.

Even so, despite how touching it was, she had to face yet again the cold veil of reality falling before her: she was *alone*. No one could save her and accompany her here.

No one, but me. And I made sure of that.

Being their envoy already sealed me out of a life where I could not embrace the woman that made her way to my heart and own sensitivity. Where she was, it was as if she carried light to the city's life, to *my* life, like a pristine ray of sunshine across a window.

It felt so comforting, but so blinding all the same. Everytime I would feel that blissful warmth, the shadows would call back to me so I would not drift too far away through this shower of light.

Today, she was at the shore, walking in the sand as she held on the length of her dress, her feet bare, her hair dancing along the wind so gracefully. From the porche, cigarette in hand, I watched as she would contemplate the sea, and the waves clapping against the coastline. 

The sea. She might have become familiar with it, what with spending time over here, at the house. She kept that morose expression, whenever she would see the waves. The oysters and knifing rendered her hands callused, and stained with muck from the earth and the sea. Many times already, I was there to witness it, and many times, I was there to cater for them, wrapping bandages around them with the delicacy they deserved to be treated with. Hell, if it was not for my own thoughts telling me not to, I would have kissed them and praised them endlessly.

This ardent passion, swirling and twirling into me like an inferno invaded both body and mind, and I have found myself torn apart by it, consumed by it to the last ashes. But between that and waltzing with the stars from the dome above, I already knew I could not do a thing about it.

I never would, because my hands are bound to the shackles of the shadows, so daunting and elusive all the same.

And she was tied with me, too. Whether she was aware or not, it would not matter, so long as I knew we would be both elected to greater accomplishments that the Caster had yet to decide.

But my mind is now wandering in aimless tangents. As I put out my cigarette on the porche, I saw her walking back to me, with her signature smile... that tender expression that would never leave my mind! And now, she is displaying it to me like on a canvas of her own features. It truly fascinated me; despite her eyes and general body posture that spelled exhaustion, she would always keep that hint of resillience, that would also be contagious.

How could she possibly keep on beliving, while I was the hopeless one? Undoubtedly, she was much stronger than I could ever be.

It drove me to just stand up, closer to her, and-

Now with her in my embrace, I would feel her hands sliding onto me, and we would keep this cradle, together, as one. It was a feeling that I missed and yearned to experience again for so long, the flamboyant love I would once express for her surging back in my chest, in this instant. My cheeks flushed. How long was it since I last got comfortable like this, in front of her?

Deep down, it felt as if she would cling onto me, like a seashell stuck on the stone. As if she knew what would be of her very soon. 

*And so, I would cling back onto her.*