• James breathed deeply, smiling when the scent of lavender filled his mind. Then, when he realized it was the scent of cheap perfume he put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. The memory of her still haunted him, and it struck him in places where he least expected it. One thing he remembered was that she always smelled like lavender, the real flowers, not the imitation. He walked out of the little store that he had been perusing and out into the slowly falling snow. The little flakes wasted no time in sticking to his coat, and the cold quickly turned his usually pale cheeks to a cherry red. His steps echoed off the pavement, his presence being the only one on the street. It was late, and the shopkeeper, being his good friend had decided to stick around for him for awhile. But James didn’t say barely a word to him, he was too preoccupied in his own thoughts. He considered going back to his flat, but he wouldn’t go to sleep so there was no point. Other than a place to rest his head, the flat held memories, ones he didn’t care to face right now. Now that she was gone.

    “These violent delights have violent ends…” he sang in a voice than many would have considered beautiful, but he refused to sing. He only sang for her, when they did the dishes together or sat on the couch, comfortable in each other’s arms. Plus he never sang regular music, he always sang literature, a quirk he’d had since a child. It was usually Shakespeare, the flow of the words made it easy to sing. The words floated on the slight breeze, leaving him as it seemed everything else did.

    “Hey you.” Her voice called from the recesses of his mind, causing him to squint in pain and rub his head. But when things were in your head, they were much harder to escape. No amount of running would help. He shivered, the cold finally getting to him as he reached a busier part of town. The part with the best nightlife within miles. Briefly he thought about going into a random bar and drowning his problems in huge quantities of alcohol, but it was no use. A brief escape would do him no good, and just being in a bar would bring back a recollection of the fact they met in a bar, where she’d rescued him from the depths of a long-lasting depression. His guardian angel, he’d called her fondly, whispering it to her in the dark. He felt like Romeo from the play he had quoted, depressed over the loss of Rosaline. But then Romeo had found Juliet, and James was still waiting for it to happen. As long as it didn’t end in a double suicide.

    “Hello?” a feminine voice called from behind him. He didn’t bother turning, her address was not directed at him. His feet shuffled through the slowly building snow, his mind turning into a living nightmare, continually haunted by tortuous memories. Then his boot struck a rock and he hit the pavement hard, pain flaring in his palms. He clenched his fists and felt the liquid and heard running steps drawing nearer to him. A blonde haired girl hovered above him, concern obvious in his dull green eyes. He picked himself up, smiling his thanks and walked away. She kept pace with him though, not so easily shoved off.

    “You’re going to need a bandage.” She said in a matter-of-fact voice. The same tone Rolyna had used with him many a time. He grimaced at the stinging memories that came back, driving him mad. He stayed in pained silence, determined to make no connection to the girl, or to anyone else for that matter.

    “Fine then, don’t talk to me.” She barked, but continued walking next to him, refusing to go away. He could feel the teasing in her harsh voice, but she had no idea the pain she was bringing him. Right now when all he wanted was to be alone. But it seemed as if she wouldn’t let him. He closed his eyes for a moment, just as she glanced over. In that instant, he revealed the acute pain he was feeling even though he didn’t mean to. She gasped, causing him to open his eyes and glare at her.

    “What?” his tone was harsher than he meant it, and he felt sorry when he saw her recoil. However it didn’t seem to faze her.

    “I’m sorry you lost her.” He stopped dead in his tracks, and gaped at her. His jaw hung slack and his eyes widened considerably. He was shell-shocked, completely taken aback. How did she know? She smiled sympathetically, her eyes brimming over with concern. The woman looked as if she had shouldered some of his burden, but it still weighed down oppressively on James.

    “Why are you talking to me?” he whispered, still bewildered by her and her observations.

    “I’m your guardian angel.” She said bluntly, smiling angelically. He looked heavenward and laughed sarcastically.

    “You’re not a--” he turned back to look at her, but she wasn’t there. Rolling his eyes he turned and continued walking, just wanting to get home now. “Must have been a daydream.” He muttered to himself, crossing the street and turning the corner.

    “Yes, it must’ve been a daydream,” She whispered from her place high above the city, “some daydream.”