Balcony

Her pov:

On a quiet night, when the clouds are light gray above the pink mixed with blue sky. The moon was watching her like a storyteller. The stars lit the earth as if they were tiny lamps. A girl was sitting on her balcony in her short navy silk dress. Her hands clenched the railing. She stared at the evening sky, green eyes searching the stars. She had bold, dark hair that fell to her shoulders. Her skin was cold white. Her lips were like strawberries, red and soft. While she was lost in her thoughts, she noticed a piece of paper fall from the sky. Where and how? She didn't know. She leaned over the railing, left hand gripping tight as she reached for the paper with her right. Catch you! She thought to herself, a soft smile crossing her lips. She sat on the floor, leaning her back against the railing. The breeze moved her hair from her face a little. She opened the paper and started reading it.

'Like a night sky, I want to run my fingers through it. Your green eyes are the only garden I would keep looking at, wanting to walk in them... Admiring them. Your white skin is like snow. Did you eat a strawberry? Because I keep thinking about them. I feel like I'm so close, yet so far away. I want to hold you against my arms and my chest. Never let you go.

To my beloved, Moon.'

The letter ends there, letting her smile softly. She looked around for the person; she needed to see who wrote her this... The one who calls her Moon. As she stood up, leaning against the railing again, "Hello? Is anyone here?" ...Silence... "Who wrote this letter?" ...No answer...

His pov:

He'd been watching her for months. She became the oxygen he needed to breathe. As he found out more about her, he discovered where she lived. He would just stand below her house, brown eyes gazing up at her window. Every time he noticed her shadow, he would call her name in his mind, Moona... My Moon, but he couldn't shout it out loud. Instead, he ran his fingers through his messy black hair, rubbing his nape and opening the first button of his shirt. The night was quiet, but he was there, standing, longing for her. Fighting with his feelings that kept telling him to climb the tree beside her window, then sneak in. He wouldn't do that... he didn't want to scare her. Never. She doesn't even look at you. What are you doing, idiot? Just let her go already. You are insane. He thought to himself. The breeze held his longing like a flower he had never smelled. His room was full of her... He'd been drawing her, even in the poses he wanted her to be. Like her between his arms, sleeping on his lap, her hand with his, the way she would laugh at his silly jokes. Every damn art was holding a punch of feelings. His closet was full of letters he wrote for her, but he kept them closed. Today, the feeling of seeing her was tighter than ever. He needed to see her, to let her know how much he adored her. Even if she wouldn't see him, at least... She would know. As he walked on the empty roads to her house, he stopped for a minute... writing her a letter. When he was close to her house, he noticed her standing there on her balcony with her eyes closed. Then, he looked at her palms, how tightly she held the railing... She looked sad... There was a hidden frown on her face. He stood there adoring her from far away, how beautiful... So beautiful, like an angel. He thought to himself. He leaned against a nearby tree, watching her open her eyes, and her head moved up to look at the moon. The soft breeze played with her hair. I wish I were the breeze here, I'm jealous... Look at you, looking at the moon? His eyes landed on the moon with her, "When you are the moon itself. Moons," he whispered to himself. Then, he took a long, deep breath to calm down a bit. They sat just like that, looking at the moon together. After a while, he remembered the letter in his pocket. He reached in, held it out, and read it one more time before he climbed the tree, kissed the paper, "Go and let her know," he whispered before throwing the paper like a kite to her window. He climbed down and hid behind her house wall, watching her catch the letter and sit down on the floor. As she read, he watched her face, searching for any anger, a frown, or a smile. When she finished reading it, he held one hand to his chest... His heart was racing fast. Drowning in his thoughts, her voice brought him back to reality, "Hello? Is anyone here?" he didn't answer, deciding to wait for her next move. He noticed her swallow before she spoke again, "Who wrote this letter?" He stayed silent, gazing at her... "Mi corazón," he whispered. After a while, "Would you stay if I appeared to you?" His voice was in a soft, calming tone. He waited for her answer, his hands clenching tight, and his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He waited, then spoke, almost pleading, "Say something... please, Moons."

Her pov:

She was there, in shock. She knew whose voice it was, she couldn't believe it... Is it him for real? No... It can't be. Her mind was about to explode, thinking that she was crazy, but his voice was calling her, "Say something... please, Moons." She looked down, searching for him, "Max?" She called out, "Is that you?" But there was no answer... "I must be crazy." She spoke to herself when his voice answered her, "No, Moons. You are not crazy, it's me... Yeah, Max." She looked down, meeting his gaze. White shirt with the first two buttons open, gray pants, tired face, and he was in a mess. There were black circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well for days. He was looking at her with soft, tender, and loving eyes. As if he fell on his knees for her. She smiled, "I thought you hated me. That you like to fight with me." Then she sat on the railing, "Is it a new joke you play?" A light frown appeared on her lips. As she waited for his answer, she noticed that he didn't move, didn't laugh, just a weak man standing with his head up to her. In a crazy impulse, she decided to prove whether he really meant what he wrote in the letter. She jumped from the railing to the ground. Closing her eyes tightly, preparing herself for falling. I may break my leg, or my head, or... OH NO!! She remembered, I might die! She noticed how stupid this idea was. The air was against her face and hair. Her hands were in tight fists, and her neck was sweating up. Time slowed. Every second stretched into an hour. Her life flashed before her eyes, so many things she'd never get to do because of this dumb idea. She realized she didn't want to die.

His pov:

While he stood there, her voice calling his name was like music to his ears. He smiled softly when she thought that she was crazy. So, he answered "No, Moons. It's me..yeah..Max". He was looking at her in adoration. Noticing every small detail on her, her smile, her hair, her eyes, the way she was sitting, the way her chest moved up a little when she breathed, even the way she moved her hair from her face backward. As he was staring at her, all of a sudden she jumped from the railing. His heart jumped out of his chest. Oh, God..Moona! With one fast move, he caught her in his arms. He was about to fall, but he held himself. "Oh, my God", he hugged her tight in his arms. One hand was holding her head on his chest. "You... You crazy girl! Are you trying to kill me?" He pulled her closer before letting her down on her feet, but didn't let her go from his arms. He cupped her face between his palms and looked at her with worried, scared eyes. "Did you get hurt? Are you okay?" He moved one hand and let it down on her arm. "You sure you're okay? Oh my... you're just so damn crazy." He pulled her back to his chest, holding her tight. "Don't ever think of doing that again." His voice dropped to a soft, low tone. "I can't lose you... My moon." Then he pressed a kiss on top of her hair. One arm wrapped around her, the other hand was running through her hair very slowly, to make sure she was real, she was here, safe. "Idiot," he mumbled at her forehead, but his voice wasn't holding any hatred or anger. Then, he shut his eyes and took a deep, long breath. The smell of her scent was going inside his mind, and in his lungs. Once...Twice... Until he calmed down, finally, but he didn't let her go yet.

Her pov:

She felt him catch her. I didn't die! She thought. The way he hugged her melted her heart, melted the ice that had frozen around it. That soft kiss on her hair made a tear slip down her cheek. He meant what he wrote, every word. Without thinking, she hugged him and closed her eyes, breathing him in. Her heart calmed down, and everything faded away, "Max," she mumbled, "Forgive me. I'm so sorry." She felt his arms tighten around her. Felt safe. Felt at home. Finally felt that she was loved and alive again. After a moment, she pulled back a little just to look at him. Their gazes met.

The storyteller pov:

The moon was the only light for them. The gentle breeze moved their hair softly. The air was full of unspoken words, silent ache, longing, yearning. They stayed silent for a while, never breaking eye contact. A soft smile appeared on the corner of her lips as he ran his fingers through her hair. He mirrored her smile, but his eyes were warmer. His fingers moved to her cheekbones, touching her skin as if she were made of glass. He was afraid of breaking it. After what seemed like forever, he broke the silence with his rough voice, almost a prayer. "I love you." Just one confession, weak, pleading. She held his jaw as he leaned towards her touch. She felt his fingers caressing her nape. He looked at her eyes, then at her lips, then back to her eyes. "Tell me to stop before I do something stupid," he pleaded, but she frowned, "I hate you," she mumbled, pulling him closer by his tie. Their breaths mixed; each of them was breathless. He waited one more minute before he captured her lips with his. A light kiss, to taste her. But she wasn't having it. She cupped his face and pulled him back, kissing him deeper, demanding more. Every word, every fight, and every scar between them disappeared. Two lovers who finally found eachother. The kiss was soft, slow, as if it was telling every hidden feeling. They melted into each other. He held her against him as if he wanted to make their bodies one. She pulled him flush to her as well. And that night changed everything between them. They were finally, completely, undeniably in love.

Her pov:

The warmth of his kiss made her heart beat like it never did before. His arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. She felt safe. She felt loved. She felt... alive. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was breathing again. She pulled back a little, just enough to look at him. Her green eyes searched his brown ones. The moonlight was dancing on his face, making him look almost unreal. She ran her fingers slowly along his jawline, memorizing every small detail. The way his eyes softened when he looked at her. The way his lips curved into that gentle smile. The way he made her feel like the only girl in the world. "Max," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't believe you're really here. "He smiled, but there was something sad behind it. Something broken. "Moona..." His rough voice sounded weaker than before. She frowned, noticing the way his eyes looked distant, as if he was standing somewhere far away, even though he was right in front of her. "What's wrong?" Her heart started racing. Something felt off. Something felt... wrong. "I need to tell you something," his voice cracked, almost like he was holding back tears. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was afraid. I didn't know how." "Tell me what?" She cupped his face between her palms, trying to bring him back to her. He took her hands in his. They felt cold. So cold. Like ice against her warm skin. "Do you remember last winter? The accident on the highway?" Her blood froze. Her heart stopped. No. No, no, no. This can't be real. "The night it snowed," he continued, his voice breaking with every word. "I was on my way to your house. I had written you a letter... just like tonight. I wanted to finally tell you how I felt. How much I loved you. How much I needed you. But the roads... they were icy and I—" "Stop." Her voice shook. Tears were already forming in her eyes. "Max, stop it. You're here. You're right here with me. I can feel you." "Moona, I'm not—" "You caught me!" She was crying now, her voice desperate. "I felt you catch me! Your arms... they held me. You kissed my hair. You called me your moon!"

He pressed his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes tight. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "I'll always catch you, mi corazón. Even now. Especially now. I would never let you fall."

The darkness around them started fading. The first rays of dawn were breaking through, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. She felt his hands becoming lighter in hers. Like he was made of smoke. Like he was slipping away.

"No, please." She gripped his shirt tighter, pulling him closer. "Don't go. Don't leave me again. I can't... I can't do this without you."

"I never left," he whispered against her skin. His voice was fading, becoming quieter with each word. "I've been here every night, Moons. Watching over you from afar. Making sure you were safe. Making sure you were okay. But Moona..." He opened his eyes, looking at her with so much love it hurt. "You have to let me go now. You have to live. For me. For us."

"I don't want to," she sobbed, shaking her head. Her tears were falling like rain. "I don't want to live without you."

"I love you," he said one last time, his voice barely a whisper now. "I'll always love you. Until the stars fall from the sky. Until the moon stops shining. But this... this isn't real, Moona. You know it isn't. Deep down, you know."

As the sun rose higher, he started dissolving into the morning light. Like smoke disappearing into thin air. Like a dream fading away. She reached for him, but her hands caught nothing. Just empty air.

She stood there alone on the cold street, her arms wrapped around herself. Shaking. Crying. Broken.

She looked up at her balcony. The railing she'd jumped from. Then she looked down at her hand. There was a crumpled letter—old, yellowed with time. The paper was soft from being read over and over again. The same letter she'd found in his belongings after the funeral six months ago. The letter he wrote but never got to send. The letter that said everything he never got to say.

She'd been seeing him every night since then. On her balcony. In her dreams. In the shadows. Talking to him. Loving him. Holding onto him like he was still alive.

But Max was gone.

He died that snowy night on his way to her. And she'd been living in denial ever since, creating a world where he was still here. Still watching her. Still loving her.

She fell to her knees on the empty street, clutching the letter against her chest. The morning sun was warm on her skin, but she felt cold. So cold.

The moon had disappeared. The stars were gone. And so was he.

All that was left was her, alone with her grief, holding onto the ghost of a boy who loved her enough to stay even after death.