Sincerely, Scooby.

A Story by Ben Taylor

She sat next to him, quietly, her face perfectly masking her emotions. As an observer, their conversation seemed almost natural, but there was something slightly stilted about the casual banter: the responses too quick, the questions ending with a slight stammer.

A slight blush crept from her neck to her cheeks, compressed emotion showing itself in a slight reddening of the face. Her smile trembled, and he glanced away. With no warning, a tremor subtly slipped from wrist to shoulder, and her composure vanished, replaced by trembling lips and rapid blinks.

Breaking down, the boy: "It really won't be that far," his voice cracking almost unnoticeably. "Until I can drive, we can always use the trains. It'll work."

His voice carried a certain tone of desperation, as if asking for her to convince him his words were, in fact, true. A short silence ensued, evidence that the same conversation had repeated itself in the past. It ended when he hesitantly took her hand.

"That line you wrote, about us 'enduring the sharpest frosts and remaining eternal'..I know they were just words, but I think I honestly believe them. We can survive the distance."

"I believe it too. As long as I can believe it when you aren't here..." she whispered, fear still reddening her cheeks, but the terror fading from her gaze. "Distance is like time--the longer it is, the more destructive it becomes."

"Do you think it will ruin us?"

"We won't let it."

She leaned her head onto his shoulder--not relaxed, but now more resigned than despairing.

"Why can't things just stay perfect?"

Why, indeed? I stood and mentally bade the couple the best of luck, hoping that the piece of beauty they had found in this world would not be torn from them.