Lucy watches the faces of those around her. Some have been around for years, some for months. Each is unique. Some may be similar, but no two are equal.

The face across from her is filled with concern, but wears a smile nonetheless. He winks across the fire at her when he spots her gaze. The gesture something she will always associate with his fatherly love.

The one next to him is filled with content. She leans against his shoulder as a soft and beautiful smile slowly spreads from her eyes to her lips.

There are the others that fade from time to time, but never truly go away. They are the faces that will always be familiar. They will always come back and will never disappear. Disagreements, life, distance, it may all cause fading, but these faces will never be lost.

There is one in the circle that is understanding and has proven more loyal and true than many others and still Lucy has her reservations. A heart eaten by betrayal and hurt does not easily trust again.

There are a few faces that lie in the shadows. Only Lucy seems to notice these. Those whose faces are lit by the light of the fire have no knowledge of those on the cusp of darkness. Their eyes bear down on Lucy. They dare her to fight, dare her to lose again.

There is a face dotted here and there in the circle that is so new Lucy isn’t even sure what to make of the features. Are they friendly? Are they acting? Are they trustworthy? Why are they here?

Then comes the last face of all. The one Lucy fixates on the most. The eyes born by this face capture her attention, her soul. She stares, immobile, into those captivating eyes. When her eyes do finally break away, they fall onto soft pink lips. They are plump and full, but not overwhelming. She runs her tongue along her own open lips unknowingly.

This face hasn’t been around as long as the winking one, the soft smile, or those that will never fade. Yet this face is the most important one. It’s been there even when the circle has been empty. It’s been there when the circle has been too full for comfort. It’s been there while the fire blazed high into the air, but has also leaned in close when nothing but coals remained.

Lucy stares into this face. This handsome face that begs without speaking to be touched by her hands. The lips beg to be kissed by hers alone. The eyes look at no one in the circle but Lucy; always Lucy. The chatter of those around them always fades as she watches the flames dance with passion in his eyes.

It doesn’t matter who comes and goes as long as he stays. The fire shouldn’t be at the center of the circle, he should. What good is the fire without him? The fire is not the center of her thoughts, he is.

Lucy cannot resist the urge any longer, she reaches out and touches his face. Her fingers dance with electricity. As she runs her thumb along his lips, he kisses it and Lucy can feel her own heartbeat where his kiss was left. The fire seems to burn brighter in his eyes.

Lucy’s hand falls slowly back to her lap. He is hers and she is his. All other faces may fade or disappear completely, but one thing she knows: his will always be there.


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