11:19pm

I love you till you call the cops on me

Au
—

It was the centre piece of the entire park, that statue. It's sat in that exact spot for generations upon generations, seemingly never decaying from rain, not a single spot of graffiti, which was odd, the city was known for it's art on buildings and walls. But not the statue.

Carved from stone, it was beautiful, the details seemingly impossible, but they were there. The small marks on the bare arms, face, clothes, hair, it's eyes seemed to hold a million emotions all equating to joy. The statue itself was of a man, a young man wearing a robe, one arm hanging by his side, the other stretched out to the side, hand open, as of waiting for someone to hold it, head tilted back slightly to stare up at the sky, a grin forever plastered on his face.

The statue was happy. It made others happy by just glancing over at it.

There was no history of it. No manner of research could ever discover who created it, why it was created, how, or when. All people know is that it's been here forever, and will continue to be. A myth, or legend, has loomed over the statue, too, that if the statue's soulmate touches it's hand, he'll come to life. Of course, people understood that couldn't happen - it was impossible, right? - it was just a statue. Even so, people found it a great photo op, the podium having enough space for someone else to climb onto and hold it's hand.

It was a great tourist attraction, a landmark famous across the country, possibly even the globe, popular for it's mystery alone.

Some people wondered who the soulmate was, others wondered if he would ever find them.

After a long day of people holding his hand and taking pictures, the statue was left alone in the park as the sun set and the moon came out over the horizon and up into the night sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. The statue was frozen, silent, eyes never moving from the sky above.

The park was mostly abandoned from life, every so often a night animal would scurry on by, or the breeze would push along some litter, but other than that, silence.

Until the sound of shoes tapping softly against concrete broke it.

A man, no older than twenty five, walked with his head ducked down and hands relaxed in his pockets. His breathing was steady - he was calm. He often enjoyed taking nightly strolls, it was the perfect time to be alone outside, breathing in the fresh air, able to think without the noise of mindless chatter droning on in the background.

It was perfect. The man loved it.

The man, who went by Virgil, sat down on a bench and leaned back, sighing out through his nose. As he lifted his head he stared up at the statue which he bench was placed before. He did find the statue to be beautiful, but he never got the chance to hold it's hand or take a picture - one; because he would find it very awkward holding onto the statues hand while people watched on, waiting for their turn and two; he didn't have anyone to take the photo of him, he couldn't ask a stranger to do it, the idea made him shudder.

However, one touch now couldn't hurt, could it?

Curiously, he stood up and crossed the space between him and the statue, raising his hand to gently touch the stone robe. It was cold. Jumping up onto the podium, he stared at the statues face, it wasn't a tall statue, it was his exact height, enabling him to be able to see every little detail. The small dimples in his cheeks, the freckles, the curly hair laying across his head. He looked adorable, Virgil found.

Moving to stand beside him, Virgil lifted his hand and hesitated, hovering it in the air beside the statues hand until he reached forward and held it tight.

The next morning, news broke out - the statue had vanished.

But at the same time, everyone was content.

Looks like he finally found his soulmate.

—
Idea from:

12:00am