The chilly night air is perfect – The way the cool breeze blows gently through her hair, or the way the moon shines sparingly upon his face. The steady glow of fireflies reflects into the dark sky, The sky as infinite as the eternity it holds; the soft trickle of water sliding along the rocks, worn as smooth as a newborn's unscarred body from lifetimes of the creek's eternal flow. She stops to pick a wildflower as he leads her to a minute meadow, guiding her through the tangled grasses That reach out to grab her ankles as they pass. She lets his warm hand drop from her chilled fingertips as he feels her shiver and pulls her closer to him. The itchy blades of grass at her feet no longer bother her, nor does the deep feeling pulling at her insides telling her what she already knows, telling her she should not be here – not now, and not with him, telling her this will not last forever. No, none of this worries her anymore. Not now, nor as long as he is right here by her side. He longs for the courage to believe. He hopes this moment will last forever, but he knows it won't; nothing and no one he falls for lasts. He continuously unwraps the broken pieces of his soul only to stifle his true self yet again. He yearns to break free of this mercilessly selfish world, and to rid himself of this artificial mask that keeps him living in lonely desolation. He is lost in his own emotions, afraid to take a chance and completely let go. She looks up at him when she feels him begin to shake. He says nothing is wrong, but she smiles out of reassurance as she leans her head against his shoulder and hands him her flower. In his mind, he is eternally flawed, and life is impossible when he is involved. But all she can see is perfection.