Brink

You will never see me cry. 
She whispered defiantly.
Tears will turn to crystals on my cheeks, the drop abandoned by salt rivers. No. You will not see me break this stoic facade. Not for something so worthless as you.
She turned toward the North, the wind brushing auburn curls away from her ivory skin. The green in her eyes struck fiercely against the white mountain. Doubt, which had begun to seep into her soul, backed away the coward of their confrontation. She would not embrace it to save the world. Instead, her boots tread on, deeper into the icy gulch of a powdered mountainside. Her eyes ever searching the horizon above her; the summit before her. 

I am not yours to take; you are mine to conquer.

Posted by

Jaymee is the writing force and creative director behind the Beaux Cooper brand. She loves to collaborate with other writers and journalists across the genres. Jaymee lives under the beautiful foothills of the Front Range in Colorado with her cat, Ada, and partner.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s