This is an old piece from my first year of University.
Lost to the River
Warm light sat on his defined cheekbones, a pencil in one hand and a notebook in the other as he looked across to Somerset House. Some friends would be meeting him soon and he would be dragged away from this serene spot on the Southbank, but at least for this moment he could relax. His free hand combed dark hair from eyes whilst he leant further back on the wooden bench, a group of girls were eyeing up his bench enviously with their iced tea sweating in their hands. A family stopped in front of him, the mother exhaustedly sighing as she had down on the other side of the bench. He went back to doodling and did not plan to stop until he heard a little girl giggling. With a smile he looked up, the little girl wore denim dungarees and a floppy hat that her dad held down as she tried to take it off. The woman beside him laughed at that, a low chuckle escaped his lips as well. The girl screwed up her face and pouted, trying to shake the hat off her head.
"It's protecting your pretty little head. Please just wear the hat, Emily." The mother said softly. But Emily had gotten past her father and ran up to the railing. Her dad, hat in hand, scooped her up before she could slide past. During this the mother had abruptly sat up only to slowly lean back once her partner gave her an apologetic smile.
"Put your hat on sweetie." Emily's father instructed, he was a plump man, very tall as well, the little girl at his feet barely reached his knees. Emily screamed gleefully, it was all still a game to her, and she was enjoying it far too much. The hat was back on her head but the smile on her face said it wouldn't stay there long. Her father, seeing his partner was distracted, lifted her up in the air and swung her over the railing and then back around to the floor.
"Again!" She ordered, to which her father obeyed. He lifted her up and swung her in the same way. However, this time she flicked her head half away, causing her hat to fly off over the railing. This time the mum was looking.
"Andrew!" She gasped, the still giggling Emily and father could hardly hear her. Emily shook her head of blonde curls happily, celebrating her freedom whilst her father cringed. The family walked away, the mother scolding the other two as they both laughed. Emily turning back to the boy who had previously been sitting beside her mum with a fleeting glance. He smiled at the little girl, and the little girl grinned back.
He sits on that same bench six months later, the sunlight replaced by dim LED's, his pencil replaced by a cigarette. His hair is longer and needs brushing from his eyes more often. Behind him the Christmas Market blossoms, little hands all gloved and held tightly by parents, little bodies wrapped liked the presents that awaited them at home. Hot foods and drinks were in the hands of most, and those who went without only did so because their food had been knocked onto the floor or given to their smaller companions. Even under the lights of the heaters, people shivered but one girl remained coatless, catching sludgy lumps of snow in her bare hands before it drips through her fingers.
She sat there, away from them all atop the railing, entranced by the warring currents of the Thames as a small smile graced her lips. Blonde hair and pale skin backlit by the warm Christmas Market which called for her to return, a call which she acknowledged but ignored.
"It's lovely in the dark, you can't see how dirty and shit it is." Her voice rises above the hubbub like a wisp of smoke.
He laughs at that, to which she stiffens. Her eyes are locked onto the river and her legs are tangled in between the bars just to ensure she doesn't fall. He goes to stand beside her, his shoulder touching her arm as she reaches out to catch more sludge. The lights of Somerset House become another one of the many lights not strong enough to penetrate the murky Thames and instead is left to reflect on the black water face.
"You're shivering." He notes, she doesn't respond, only sighs at the river, admiring the lights.
"Don't you find it beautiful?" She grins up at the sky. "So many stars we can't see because of these lights, and yet we can always see the moon." He was distracted by her of course, she'd never smile at him the way she smiled at the moon, nor would she look at him for as long as she looked at the river. She would never hold his hand with the same amount of love as she held a snowflake, even though his wouldn't melt away. She glances at him, grey eyes with grey bags underneath them, and she gives him a different smile to what she gave everything else, this one was sympathetic. "You're okay too, I guess."
This prompts a fond smile on his lips, there is no time to be upset or angry, she's just telling the truth. Her eyes linger ever so slightly on the market behind them; however, she quickly turns back to the river.
"I guess it does look kind of pretty in the dark." He murmurs, she looks to check where his comment was directed and blushes when she sees him looking at her.
"That's a little rude." She huffs.
"I'm just being honest."
"Well that's fair enough then." She shrugs.
He climbs on to the railing and sits beside her, his hip touching hers. They both sigh loudly, both of their breaths appearing before their mouths only to fade away together.
"I'm sorry to drag you here all the time." She whispers.
"I come here on my own accord actually." He replies.
"But it is beautiful isn't it?"
"It's been beautiful since you said it was."
"That's cringe-worthy, don't ever say that again."
They both laugh and he agrees to her terms as their laughter manages to warm his cheeks. The smile on his lips is the same one she gives the river, but his is directed at her. He gallantly offers his coat, and she refuses it as she leans her head on his shoulder. He sighs this time, that fond smile on his lips once more. Sleet manages to sneak down his scarf, down his neck and past her head, he doesn't dare to move, she hates it that he fidgets. Her fingers thread through his, her thumb running its way across the back of his hand. For a long period of time, she just stares with a look of worry on her usually smiling lips.
"What’s wrong?" He asks, moving closer to her again.
"Nothing." She leans in and places a kiss on his forehead, her lips are cold, and her breath doesn't warm his skin anymore. A tear pulls its way out of her eyes as dark lashes start to flutter. He felt the tear hit his face, but he doesn't move, she hates it when he fidgets. "I miss you." She whispers, her skin is losing its colour and she's not holding onto the railing anymore. He tries to pull her down to look at her properly, but he can't. She was always the dominant one, and this time she refuses to budge. He tries to grab onto her, but his hands slip on her soaked clothes. Then she falls like the sleet around her towards the river which she adored so much. He watches her face as she falls, her lips turning blue as her grey eyes close. The grey from her eyes leaks into her skin which is starting to peel away. Her hair and clothes float around her as she falls with the grace of an angel. He reaches out but won't leave the safety of the railing. For a second he thinks she's smiling at him, but he realises the smile is directed at the moon.
He waits there for a moment, hand hanging off the railing as the river swallows up her body. The temperature has dropped again, and the sleet is becoming more snow-like. It falls onto his hand and melts instantly, the drop falls into the river along with his cigarette. The river swallows it up without hesitation and moves on. He looks up at the moon and can't see the beauty of it. It's just a rock, he thinks, it's just a fucking rock that’s reflecting light. The tears in his eyes blur the stupid rock from his view as he resolves himself to follow her. Follow her into the river that looks just as shit as the fucking rock in the sky. It's all shit, he thinks, everything about this is shit.
"Whoa, you want to get down from there mate." A rough voice says, he doesn't turn, eyes focusing on the river. There is the soft giggling of a little girl and he finds himself smiling without wanting to. His temples are screaming with exhaustion and tears, but he smiles. "You might fall off, I reckon it's slippy up there." He decides to turn to the voice, his eyes desperate and pleading for the voice to help. There is a round man standing a few meters behind him, he can't see the man's face due to the terrible lighting but there is some familiarity to it. At the man's side is a little girl who is tugging at a woolly hat that's being held onto her head. Tears spill out of his eyes and the little girl giggles as her dad holds her hat down on her head. He smiles at the girl, and she makes a scrunched up pouty face. The dad smiles as well and reaches out a hand to held him back over the railing. "It gets better." The man said, and he was completely inclined to believe him. He climbed back over, the little girl giggling as her dad scoops her up and hugs her tightly, with a simple nod the man walked away with his little giggling girl in his arms. No one followed after them, and when he walked away from the spot he had stopped at almost every day for the past two years, he knew she wouldn't follow him this time.