Someone called for her.
She'd heard his voice once before.
She jumped at the sound,
Thinking I've been found!
Her brokenness was over.
Her savior had come.
She stood up to run.
Doubts lurked on her back.
He might attack.
She had journeyed to far to turn.
The doubts and fears bubbled inside
And made her scars burn.
She screamed and fell,
With every pain conjured in hell.
He shouted, "Rochelle!".
He sat by her side.
Said nothing when she cried,
Only held her tight.
He smelled a bit like cologne,
Though he wore non.
His curly blonde hair
Was wild and undone.
His skin was soft
And his arms were strong.
His sodalite eyes
Like a true Celtic son.
Her heart was light,
And with relief she cried,
But fight or flight
Made nothing feel right.
With fear and hesitation,
She leaned close and gave in.
He stroked her chin
And gently kissed her lips.
It never seemed to end,
But she loved the sensation.
She knew then that she loved him.
She heard footsteps again.
With gasps and angery muttering,
A hundred feet pattering,
They threatened to put him away.
She knew every one of them,
His family and his friends.
She should have known then
What he had given to see her that day.
The love in his eyes was genuine,
But she saw the mob troubled him.
He kissed her again,
Holding her hand.
He felt electric on her skin.
Still the mob came.
More distance they gained.
Angrier they became,
But calm he remained.
She stared deeply at him,
Then she ran away.
He jumped up and ran
To catch her again,
But the mob was faster.
They'd never let him catch her.
She had escaped, and then
Turned back, then ran again.
She'd run 'til the end of day,
But would regret this always.
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