Our Beautiful Webs

Crisp air bit the back of her throat as she strolled across the open acres, careful to avoid the fairy handkerchiefs glistening in the morning dew. As the soft rays of sunlight illuminated those tiny beads, she couldn’t help but think of the spiders that slaved over them, and for what purpose. It was both cute and unnerving— she hated spiders, but how beautiful their creations could be.

There was a sweetness to her, a softness, though she rarely acknowledged it. Within her toughened, thirty year old, shell existed a simple young girl, happy walking the fields in the morning sun, afraid to get hurt or left behind.

She struggled to let go of the past; even the bad stuff, because she knew to let go meant to be let go of at the same time. And that terrified her. He terrified her.

Life had made her hard. Her experiences bred a sort-of cruelty in her, not out of malice, but out of survival. A complex web of experience, intricate, beautiful, and delicate, like the solemn, silky, sinews she danced between as she stepped. She knew this, and she knew that he knew this. But he saw right through it, with those piercing blue eyes of his, and that kind of knowledge made him dangerous.

She sighed a cloud of steam that dissipated into the fog almost as soon as it appeared, rubbing her hands together for a little warmth. A couple of brown hares bounced across the fields up ahead, peacefully playing in their own element, undisturbed by misery or fear. Such unassuming innocence they had, such freedom. This put a smile on her face.

He loved it when she smiled, but not because he thought she should do it more, or because she had no legitimacy behind her apathy. He just simply loved to see her smile. The corners of his eyes would crease up and those blue orbs would glitter with new life, and in those moments, she knew… she was loved. Fully.

But was she worth it? Did she even deserve it?

She wished she could push those thoughts aside as she walked, but she couldn’t. They swirled around her mind like butter in soup, seeping in as they twirled around the warming orange liquid. Yum, that’s lunch sorted at least.

Her stomach growled hungrily at the thought. When had she last eaten anything more than chocolate or some crap out the snack cupboard anyway? Wasn’t it eggs a couple days ago? With some fried mushrooms and a tin of tomatoes? Maybe: it was hard to keep track these days.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and her heart did a back-flip, just as it had when they first kissed. She reached for it immediately. It was him. “I LOVE YOU,” the text read, and her mind thought “WHY” as her fingers typed back “I LOVE YOU TOO.”

And she did, and that was enough. At least, she knew it should be. Whether it would be or not was yet to be seen, but she knew she was willing to find out the hard way. To silence every fear, every moment of self-sabotage, to the best of her ability, while she worked on herself.

He accepted this about her, knew what to expect, and for the most part was very patient with her. She could tell he wasn’t a patient person by nature though, hot-headed, driven, and a little eccentric. She loved that about him, and he for some reason loved everything about her, down to her core.

Two fuck-ups that met in Wetherspoons, propelled into hope for something more — jolted back to life by an electrifying love.

She headed home, and called him on the way.

🕸️ 💧 🍃 For Nicole 🍃 💧 🕸️

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