Drabble 24: Caroline.

Caroline had the sort of long, dusty blonde hair that begged to be wound around his fingers, the melting chocolate eyes of fan-fiction literature, and a voice as soft as falling feathers. She was a pair of comfortable shoes, a stack of colorful cards, and his favorite lighter. She was the dirty pair of socks lurking underneath the bed. She was a picture tapped to the underside of his bed side table.

She was a girl who, while reading a book, got distracted by the snow falling outside the window. A wanderer who followed her heart and not the map. She was fickle and thoughtful. She was fragile and fun. She was a mass of contradictions, each more mind-bending than the last.

When you shift so close to someone, Soldier thought, the rest of the world shifts away. It's like being on an island a thousand leagues away from civilization. The other person is your sole companion and without them the only world you know grows hazy and distant. The ships that pass by never fully form, and the sounds of other people shuffling along reach the island through the surrounding water. The world with that someone is calmer, warmer, and happier.

Caroline. Her name seemed to sing sunshine, creating imaginary rays that tickled across the small of his back and floated up his spine. She was a vision in his mind, all soft light and dancing colors. She was more than a girl who'd left. She was the idea of love. She was the recognition that he could be loved, at least for a while.

And she was the reason he picked up a new pack of cigarettes and allowed himself to relapse into their nicotine induced calm.