Another random short story! Please sit back and enjoy :)

She lies there, mocking us all. Jailed in and confined, yet still as water. It has taken me all I've got to meet her, even if her eyes are shut, being with her more than an honor. The fearful numbness in my body halts, and the door behind me locks.

"Enjoy your time. If she doesn't kill you first." A grumble from the other side announces.

Great encouragement, comrade!

The room is just like others have described it, a circular grey cloud, with layers of locked gates and bars. A cell it may seem, except you're the one caged in. Fresh metal stings my nose hairs, and I cautiously make my first step towards the first gate, towards her. 

Some of the stories told have been quite bizarre. One man claimed he almost suffocated to death, another spoke of being thrown across the room, and one even said they managed to unlock one of the locks, to then being ripped from her clearance.

The path to her heart is no game. She doesn't come cheap. She is not cheap. This woman is a person, there is no cost.

One man I know named Bonard, who's filthy rich, gave her piles of money, and seduced her with his sick thoughts and pervertedness. When he held the chilling bars, she electrocuted him, and sent him on his way.

Bonard never went back. Then again, why would you when her decision already made? If you weren't who she was looking for, then you were out. Simple as that.

Other wealthy men grant her food, fancy clothes, and offers of a house and a wonderful life, but she dismisses them just the same. 

I've had to prove myself worthy to be here like the rest, but money does not come easy for me. I'm no prince, no duke's son. I'm just a man, and that is all I have to offer. These years have past, and not one of the men who've come to visit have met her standards, and yet it leaves her helpless, I assume. Men travelling far, to then leave the both disappointed in the end. The men wish she loved them, and she wishes they were her other half. If only all men knew money can't buy happiness.

My eyes rest on her lifeless body, and the concern for the woman injects into my blood. The image I've heard from others don't begin to compare how radiant her beauty glows. Most don't earn the privilege to see her up close. Many aren't given the chance. From my naked vision, her grace is far more than any being I've ever seen in all my life. Looking at her lengthy, ink hair, and pastel skin covered in a consuming lilac dress sprouting around her body brings my yearning to an acceleration.

My left leg moves, and I freeze waiting for a dash of lightning or a magical force field to scorn me away like the rest.

Nothing but silence.

Do I say something to her?

"H-hello, ma'am." The hairs on my neck stand, and I bit my lip.

"My name is Enoch. The people who have come before call you Hadraniel because of how well you guard your heart."

I boldly step again, lighter this time.

"But I praise you for not being easy to win, though you are no prize. This is the only way to be sure it's the truest love. "

I stop my speech for a moment, paranoia sneaking in the air. The courage in me prevails, wanting to know if there's a real connection. The tales about this lady enchante me with wonder and affection. Her vicious and wildness, the determination to find her heart's desire leaves me in ovation. The swirling vigorous colors of her alone sink in me, and itch for the answer, an answer we both want to know. Am I her match?

"I don't dare force you to feel anything, but I have nothing to offer. You're not the only person bent on finding your soulmate, and that is why I'm here today."

The bars are inches away from my face, and my courageousness drifts away. My fingers snake around my neck, where my straw hair is stuck to me like glue.

"All I want to know is if you're my one and only. The stories of how men try to win you over haunt me, and bring dishonor to the sex of men. I come with the chance for you to have my heart, and if not I'll be on my way. That is all, miss."

She doesn't move, and I don't know if I expect her to, but even the slightest motion would have given me my very answer.

Carefully, I wrap my callus fingers around the bars in front of me, and stare at the woman. Her hair slips off the marble stone she's unconscious on, though most of her presence is still out of reach. My breath reacts with my heart, a beat of soft thunder before a frightful storm.

The lock rattles abruptly, and I stagger back waiting for a shove or electrocution, but remarkably, the gate falls down into the ground, like a mole crawling back to hiding.  The holes are quickly cover by  metal floor, like the boundary never existed.

I've brought one gate down. She must've liked my honesty.

"I'm not sure if you enjoy stories, but I have a few that may keep you occupied." I pray I don't make a fool of myself. 

I meet the ground in front of gate two, a different shape now, with a new hue, and unique lock. I swallow my fear, and blindly start to chat. It helps me in even in the most terrifying times.

"Dear Hadraniel, let me tell you of the time I fell off my horse and landed in Alicante River." I weep in laughter at the sheer thought, and tell her my experience. After, another gate falls down.

I describe more stories of my life, one by one. Anything my mind can catch and recall, I spew. The stories are somber, amusing, bitter, and cheerful. They help bring a sort of peace within myself. Some of my adventures aren't so noble, and some are kept secret even from my own family. But she listens, and doesn't move an inch or send her forceful attempts and wraths upon me. This pattern occurs until there's only one lock left. The golden gate holds promise, and I marvel at the precious women she rightly is.

Carved from God himself, a heavenly aura lingers around her, a personal shield from harm. A privilege it is to be this close to her, and yet, even if I was to lose it all now, I wouldn't brag, wouldn't boast. This time spent is for her and I alone to share in our life's memories.

Those pearly cheeks and rose colored lips hold so much more than her appearance shows. Hair fine as silk from China, and a sense of brightness that shifts this grey room into a springtime wonder full of light. I'll forever savor the riches of these moments I've been granted with her, and that life has offered me this piece of bliss.

Suddenly, the thought of being here, at the last gate, worries me in all sorts of ways. This test she has laid out for every eligible male is daunting. Even with this in mind, I still cannot ignore the time I have talking to her, or the completeness my heart and soul contain being confined in this room with her.

"Fair maiden Hadraniel," My voice's scratch echoes in the room. For the first time this encompassed space feels more like a den or prison, the way it should've always been to me. With her with me any place is transformed to a paradise. I gain enough control to say my emotions.

"Forgive me if I what I say is incongruous, but I simply adore you."

I clear the phlegm and tickle caught in my throat. "I will tell you another story, but this one be not real. You remind me of another woman that most know of as a child's story, and I'm sure you've heard of it before."

I moisten my lips, and graze my sight on her godlike structural pose. "A princess cursed by birth to prick her finger on a spinning wheel at age seventeen. Though the King and Queen try to rid of every spinning wheel, on her seventeenth birthday she pricks her finger and dives into a deep slumber. To break the spell, a prince must climb up the highest tower full of thorns and wood to where the sleeping princess lies. There, if he survives, he shall kiss the princess and wake her from her curse. But alas, only true love's kiss may break the sleeping spell."

I give a great sigh. "Why do I tell you this story, fair lady? Because multiple men, tall and broad have tried desperately to take down your locks as tough as thorns to then be awarded your affection. I promise my heart is much more than just ego, pride, and a cry for a trophy wife."

I didn't want to roll down this road, but I can no longer conceal the reality of my life . "You see, my family is poor, my mother is sick, and my dear sister, Livy, has died not too long ago. All I ask is to find myself in love with a woman who'll make me happy, and stay with me but not out of pity. I've been endlessly searching for a true admirer, but because of my poor, casteless state, I think no one can love me."

I rise to my knees, and lean my upper body on the chilled, golden gate, the final barrier. "I've been a witness of countless dreams, imagining you and how royal you may seem."

Deep within my raw heart melts, and a tear slips from my eye.

"How could a royal like yourself fancy a dirty, hopeless man with nothing to offer?" I sob for a moment or two, before I dry my cheeks from salted, self-pity tears and stand to my feet.

"I can see you are not yet ready to shed your last layer of skin. You primary gate is still up, yet you don't pin me away. I'll take it this is your kind way of letting me down. It's my time to leave. Good luck, madam, and may your sleeping soul find your one true love." This wicked misery and stabbing pain courses through me like a canal.

My bottom lip quivers, my spine aches from the metal, and my heart's broken beyond compare.

Keep you eyes on the exit, and accept the decisions her heart has made.

A swift, rusty noise rubs against my ear, and sends my head turning in curiosity. The auric gate, a symbol of how steel her compassion is, now cease to appear.

I gape at the sight of the sleeping beauty, an angel waiting to be awoken. With a dreamy hope in my eyes, I stride back to this lady, and bend down in respect.

"You have chosen me, love? Is this what the gateless enclosure means? Yet your divine eyes be not open?"

Carefully, I lightly trace her cheekbone with my fingertips, unharmed and superb. My honey eyes travel to soak in everything she is. A beauty she may be, but her soul carries a higher order than what meets the eye. An envelope of elegance, kindness in every bone. The impactful existence of a purity ring, and yet she's fortitude down to her core.

"Love is patient, love is kind." I quote, my whispering voice trailing her face. "It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud."

I drop a tiny kiss upon her gentle lips, in hopes that she can sense I'm here for her, and won't ever part till she wakes. "It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,"

Sweeping her hair with the brush of my fingers, my heart soars. "It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrong."

I wonder of the rays her eyes will give off once opened. Sapphire, gilded, beryl, or henna?

"Love does not delight in evil" No matter, her eyes will conquer the sky, and the stars will dance in them.

"But rejoices with the truth." The absolute certainty of my undying devotedness is uncanny yet undeniable.

"It always protects," I will guard her with my life, and shield her from impairment. I grip her faint hand in mine, longing for her eyes to finally adjoin with mine.

"Always trusts," My life is hers, and her life is mine.

"Always hopes," A hope for a golden future, with her by my side.

"Always preserves," To cherish every second with her for as long as I exist.

I take a moment before finishing, but I don't speak another word when a sudden burst of energy sparks from her hand. Her blush lips slightly part and before she opens her eyes, I hear music come to life.

"Love never fails."

"Love is patient, love is kind"~ Corinthians 13:4