Don't expect another soon.

Scarlet lights were strung in and around the trees of the park, their dim glow barely lighting up the pathway we walked upon. Her heels clicked upon the cobblestone, narrowly avoiding getting caught in the cracks. Her hair, dark as a crow's feather, blew behind her in the faint breeze. I felt my throat clog at the sight. It took all of my willpower not the grab hold of it and tuck it away where no one else could admire its beauty. She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't comment on it.

I was nervous for sure. It was the one year anniversary since we married tonight so I prepared to take her on a walk through the park we used to play in together. Afterwards, we would eat at the restaurant we both used to work at. It was meant to be a surprise, but I think everyone knew my plans at this point. Our town isn't the largest and everyone here grew up together. It was hard to leave because of the sheer amount of memories shared here. However, not all of them are pleasant... Velaire would know. I could see the slight crease in her eyebrows every time we passed by the river or the library. Honestly, I couldn't blame her. 

That's why I had bought a house in the city. I had received a call two weeks ago about a promotion to special agent in the FBI. They would have me stationed in Seattle in the wake of a new syndicate. The bureau had learned of my speciality and decided that they would need it during interrogations. We could start over there and finally achieve our dreams. I was planning on telling her tonight after dinner. I could hardly hold in my excitement and the little twinge of pride I felt.

Suddenly, all went silent around us. Velaire's heels had stopped with their tapping along the stone. I turned to my left, looking up at her curiously. My eyes widened at the sight.

Her face was pale and her eyes were closed. Her hands were twitching as if she was searching for something to grab onto. I nudged her hand with mine and she grasped onto it with all of her life. I knew what was happening yet I couldn't help her. I had gotten the flip side of the coin. However, there was no one in sight. I cast her a nonplussed glance and stood closer to her side. But even then she seemed to stiffen more. At this point, I was as petrified as her. I knew that something terrible was coming if she couldn't even breathe right.

My fingers, trembling, clamped around the gun in my pocket. I was ready to fight for her life if need be. But as my eyes roved around the trees, all I felt were her gelid fingers wrapping around my own. Then she raised her head to the stars, the lights from the trees reflecting off of her sooty irises. At that moment I knew that today was different. I didn't know how or why, but the feeling flushed my body. 

Then, gentle as untouched snow, Velaire pulled her fingers away from mine. They didn't regain their warmth, however, turning even colder at the loss of contact. My round lips slowly parted as I stared up at her countenance. It seemed as if she refused to look at me.

Turning to me, she gave a soft smile. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, covering up the tears I failed to notice. "I think... it's time for me to go." Then, as if she were a stranger, she pushed my head towards the ground. I lost my balance, caught off-guard, and hit my head on the frigid stone. At that point, I couldn't feel the blood trickling from out of a small crack in my skull.

Those were the last words I heard before Velaire disappeared into the trees, never to be seen in this town again. My brain faintly registered her silken hair fanning around her disappearing form before I fell to the ground. The wind, soft as her skin, lulled me to sleep as the blood fanned around me just like her hair did around her.

It's been 22 years since I first met Velaire, 11 years since she accepted my feelings, 4 years since she'd begun to stare at the sky more, 3 years since she shut herself off from the world, 1 year since we married under the new moon, and 30 seconds since she left me alone, bleeding in the park, on our one-year anniversary. 

Everything seems so short when you look at it in retrospect, doesn't it?