Purple Fantasies
The knock sounds on the door, and she gasps- he is here!
She looks at the door, her heartbeat wild, and then looks at herself again and takes in a deep breath. She is a lady, an elegant lady, bedecked in purple, a royal lady, she must not behave like an excited high school girl.
She walks noiselessly, but confidently to the door, and closing her eyes for a second, she opens them as she opens the door- apprehensively.
Her apprehension gives way to joy and her face lights up, the pink cheeks now turning red. He smiles his warm smile and offers her the roses, the purple roses, with a note saying, " I looked at you. You looked at me. I fell right then for you. I hope you did the same too."
Her eyes fill up with tears, which she blinks away, and offers him her hand, and he takes it as he enters the room, shutting it behind him. She takes him to the mirror, and they stand together, her in purple, him in black and white, and she tightens her grip on his hand, and they look at their reflection, and smile.
He turns to her and pulls her gently in his arms, and they dance to the music created by their two souls singing in harmony. He twirls her round the room, and this time, she lightly giggles, her happiness and the dancing making her giddy.
They stop in front of the mirror again, and look at their reflection, hands still clasped and breaths coming quick and sharp. She is blushing again and he is smiling, and just like that, they turn towards each other and come closer, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck.
The white of his shirt and the black of his tie are the last things she sees before her eyes flutter shut and they lean in, their fragrances mingling- her delicate lavender with his musky scent, and their lips touch, for the briefest moment-
- before her eyes fly open and she sees the white and black again, only, this time, it is the white of the paper and the black of the words on it.
She is on her bed, surrounded by the blank walls; testimony to her tears as she cries- cries and flings the book away, for what use is the book which can only make her dream but not help in fulfilling those dreams? Her dreams, of being a lady, of opulence, of royalty, of love, of him... are shattered.
Gone is her prince, along with her room with the mirror, and gone is her purple dress with the purple heels. Only her delicate lavender scent remains, enveloping her, haunting her.
She never had anything that she wanted, and she'll never have anything that she wants. All she had and has, are fantasies.
Purple fantasies.