She Would Be


One day about two years ago, I saw a sunset. But it wasn't just any regular sunset that we can see every day; it was the most amazing sunset I had ever seen.

I saw it when we were going up an overpass driving out of Seattle. I had my nose in a book and had just happened to look up for a split second. I did a double take. The sky was on fire.

I dog-eared my page and leaned around the passenger seat. The horizon was lit a stark and bright red, but the sun's edges were hidden, giving the illusion that the sky and land shared a beating heart. It was brilliantly melted, kissed sweetly by God. It pulsed like the burning back-light to a stained glass window. The colors danced like how I imagine Heaven and Love in liquid form would. It was the most magnificent thing I'd ever witnessed.

And now as I think back to that evening, how I careened to the side to catch one last fleeting glimpse of the magic before it disappeared behind the unforgiving East Olympic Mountains, I can't help thinking how the radiance of that one bright sunset pales in comparison to the beauty of her.

Everything I've ever seen and everything I'll ever know will always be a dull and bland gray in light of her. She just sits there, every day, right next to me in sixth period chem class, brightening my day subconsciously with her luminance. She has this classic artistry about her that shines through the clear skin and pink cheeks that adorn her face. Her hair is a waterfall that compliments her sad brown eyes; those eyes make me think how it wouldn't be so bad to drown in them. It would be a happy death. I see her every day, walking around school, never talking. She lets her hair hide her face from the world, and I just want nothing more than to push it back and lift her chin up. I want to make her smile. She almost never smiles; but when she does, there are no words, so I'll settle with saying it's just simply beautiful.

She's the loveliest person on earth, and she deserves to know that she's my sunset. But I can't tell her that. Because she doesn't know me. I'm just that guy who opened the door for her that one time last November. I'm just that dweeb who complimented her silly Power Rangers lunch box. I'm just her sixth period chemistry partner. She can't be mine, because everyone knows you don't tell a girl you like her; it makes you look stupid!

So for now, I'll just stay here in chem, chewing my bottom lip and trying to surreptitiously peek around that mahogany curtain of hers, and I'll just bask in the fading evening light of my sun.


[EDIT] Changed some of the prologue to sound nicer.

This part is just the prologue in Edward's POV and the rest is in third person. :) I haven't updated in a while because I wanted to have some extra chapters written in advance, but I was busy allll summer and I write slow as butts, sooo... yeah. An update 6 months later. Yay!

Second chapter up soon.