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Description
Metaphoric Dystopia.

"When will you be back?" she asked, quietly. She was sitting in a old wooden rocking chair positioned by the window. The sun was just rising and she already being left in an empty apartment. Her usually bright blue eyes had become dull and tired. She didn't remember the last time she slept. She was started to get gray hairs mixed among the bright blond. Her hair was currently pulled into a messy ponytail, her long bangs remaining down, covering her right, lifeless eye.

The sun began pouring in through the window, making her sun-kissed skin glow. Had she still be able to smile, she would've been beautiful.

"Soon," was the reply the red headed man gave her. He was fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. Unlike her, he was in the shadows by the door. He knew when he last slept, but it wasn't anytime recently. The evidence of this was by the dark circles surrounding his teal eyes.

Unlike her, however, he was not awake through the night because of heartbreak - (he did not know how to feel, after all.) - he didn't sleep to keep the demons away.

He was insane, maybe, but she loved him for it.

He turned to face her before leaving. His eyes were sad and he didn't smile - neither of them smiled anymore. They had forgotten how to see color, the world was in black and white for them. Simply because that is how they made it.

Water threatens to fall from her eyes but she holds back the tears long enough for him to grab his keys and make his exit.

She knows that there is no room for her here - because she loved him and he never learned how to love.

And ever so slowly they run out of time again.

Description
Metaphoric Dystopia.

"When will you be back?" she asked, quietly. She was sitting in a old wooden rocking chair positioned by the window. The sun was just rising and she already being left in an empty apartment. Her usually bright blue eyes had become dull and tired. She didn't remember the last time she slept. She was started to get gray hairs mixed among the bright blond. Her hair was currently pulled into a messy ponytail, her long bangs remaining down, covering her right, lifeless eye.

The sun began pouring in through the window, making her sun-kissed skin glow. Had she still be able to smile, she would've been beautiful.

"Soon," was the reply the red headed man gave her. He was fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. Unlike her, he was in the shadows by the door. He knew when he last slept, but it wasn't anytime recently. The evidence of this was by the dark circles surrounding his teal eyes.

Unlike her, however, he was not awake through the night because of heartbreak - (he did not know how to feel, after all.) - he didn't sleep to keep the demons away.

He was insane, maybe, but she loved him for it.

He turned to face her before leaving. His eyes were sad and he didn't smile - neither of them smiled anymore. They had forgotten how to see color, the world was in black and white for them. Simply because that is how they made it.

Water threatens to fall from her eyes but she holds back the tears long enough for him to grab his keys and make his exit.

She knows that there is no room for her here - because she loved him and he never learned how to love.

And ever so slowly they run out of time again.