His Mona Lisa

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A love story that inspired my imagination after I saw a boy who is an angel fall in love with the beautiful girl in the picture. He fell under her spell, but will the spell be broken and the love story be realized?

Submitted: May 08, 2007

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Submitted: May 08, 2007

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From the moment her saw her he envisaged something unobtainable like The Mona Lisa. She was drawing him into her mantrap magnetic magic, her enegmatic Mona Lisa moment in the photograph. He was under her spell. Him! A bright angel six foot eight inches tall!

Encased in her olive skin that pored into an aesthetic face were her sleepy eyes that gazed at him, but it was only a dream, she wasn't really gazing at him, she was gazing at the viewers.

With her salient swarthy skin and brown eyes, with her vitreous umber hair casting her face, she was totally falling into one golden brown reality, her. Her warm woody world felt close, yet she was extraneous, bewildering, she was from far away, and where, where was she from? He thought it must be further than Japan. Japan was his world until her glimpsed her's. It would take two to build it up into his.

It would be high, the two of them being together. Although she had a boyfriend he was not married to her. He would marry her. He would give her his children. It would be the part of her in them that he would like to reproduce. As their world grew, he would be the gentle giant. He would be her angel too.

He had made contact. He had let her know he thought her beautiful. Then afterwards she filled out his questionair and when she got to the question on whether the answerer would kiss him she had answerd yes. Yes she would kiss him. She would kiss him but would she love him? When asked did the answerer love him she had answerd that she loved all her friends. Of course, of course, she had yet to meet him, but if she met him would he make her love him?

* * *

After allot of typing and exchanging of words they decided to meet.

When she kissed him she bit down on his lip, she bit so bitterly on his lip that it bled. As she was kissing and biting he felt like she was biting a lump out of his heart and going and breaking it on him. She always loved vampires and he knew that, he knew how she liked the look of dripping blood so he had told her not to do this to him, but she had went and done it anyway. And as his lips bled she stood there unkindly laughing, as if it was all a trivial joke. She might as well have scrawled the letters 'LOL' all over his sad face with the dripping blood on his lips that yearned to utter the words. 'I love you'.

Could this scean that she beheld not soften her juvanile heart? She was still laughing, she was doubling over and rolling on the floor laughing as he stood there dying of her mercyless bite. He felt symbolic and wiped the blood from his lips, it left a series of red tracks on the palm of his hand. 'Look' he said, 'look', he said waving his hand at her. 'Are you blind?' Her face then lost its smile and she looked at him more solemnly as she rose from the floor. 'It was just a joke', she retorted. Suddenly the angel begun to cry. Now the tears were streaming down his face. She walked towards him and rubbed her cheek against the tears, drying them with her own face. And then she begun to kiss his eyes. and as she did he took her hand, it was cold.

'Breath' she said. And so he breathed and so she kissed him more. I want to make you love me. I want to make you love me. come on, come on, come on he kept thinking. After she kissed him they sat down. The swing chair rocked to and fro, then it built momentum with their feet propelling it higher and higher from the ground. She untied her very long hair that had been caught in a pin, and it blew in the air, it blew into his face; she was smiling and he was smiling - they were smiling at one another, they were thinking of one another, they were embracing one another.

As the days glided by the angel looked at the sky. He wanted to build her world into his world. How would he take her higher, he wonderd, how high? One day he took her hand in his and ran with her across the glen near his house. But suddenly it begun to rain, then it begun to pour, the rain begun to pelt. There was a rumbling in the heavens, and a flash of lightning across the skys and the wind. The angel knew that the storm was a sign of something to come, but he couldn't help it, he had to save her, so he took her hand and ran with her back to his family house. She was shivering. He dried her off with a towl. It was no good. She was still shivering. He put his hand to her forehead and it felt very warm. She was burning up, so the angel rang his family doctor and she was put to sleep in the spair room. When the doctor had examined the beautiful girl he diagnosed her with a phenomenon, the girl had come across something remarkable on the glen, it was a truly noteworthy development, said the doctor, this girl was in a singular state of elevation. What dose this mean? asked the angel.

'She is burning up, burning up to heaven', replied the doctor. 'She is dying?', asked the angel concernedly. 'It seems so', replied the doctor'. The angel rushed to the girl's bedside and weeped. The girl opened her eyes and saw him crying. When he saw her eyes open he touched her face and it felt so increadably hot. 'Oh girl'. said the angel, I didn't realize what the consaquence of our relationship would entail. 'I am so sorry'. 'Don't be sorry , it was only a joke, look, I heated my face with this deep heat treatment, she said producing it from under the bed. 'I told the doctor to tell you I was fatially ill to see how you would react!', and with that she begun hysterically laughing in his face. He felt deeply embarassed by this joke. Not only had she wounded his heart, but she had also made him feel stupid. 'Why are you so mean to me beautiful girl'. asked the angel. The girl could not tell why. But the next day she decided to cook for him, she decided to cook him something from her native land. He did not know where that land was but the food was spicy. The spices made contact with the gash on his lips and stung them. Yet she smiled at him while he ate. He imagined she was his wife that he relied on. But could he really rely on her? He was unsure, tomorrow she would return to her part of England, back to where her boyfriend was, and she had yet to tell him that she would leave the other man. She seemed to be only playing with him; he had not made her love him, not yet. Yet he would be very patient and give her time, any time, he would be her angel for all time.

And she would take her time, time and again, for all time he would look upon her as the Mona Lisa.


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