Short Piece 2: The Lonely One

He looked into the eyes of the lonely one, noticing flecks of blue in the deep pools. But he also noticed that they were filled with a sadness beyond what was reasonable for the lonely one. He lifted his hand to her face, tracing her prominent cheekbone with his fingertips. "Tell me." "No." The lonely one could only whisper, afraid that her voice might crack if she spoke too loudly. Slowly, the lonely one felt his other hand grasp her arm and lift it to eye level. "Why?" He asked simply, gesturing her art work. "Because you told me you didn't want me." The lonely one replied, breaking eye contact with him. Disgusted with the lonely one, he released her hand and pulled his away from her cheekbone, standing. The lonely one didn't look up as he walked away. Instead, she lay down, pulling her favorite instrument from her pocket.