Sorrow

I held her close, tighter than ever before. She wrapped her arms around me and cuddled me close. As I heard her cry, I rested my head on hers and felt her soft but clammy forehead, kissing her on the line of her fringe. I ran my fingers down her spine gracefully, and trailed them back up, in attempt to spark the dynamo that was her happiness. When they reached her head, I ran my fingers on each of her ears, which were warm, but still wonderfully soft.

I stroked her head gently, allowing my fingertips to course through her hair. I ran them down her cheek softly, and rested her head upon my chest, standing over her and defiant; it was my job to ensure whatever was troubling her was gone, by making her laugh and by ridding her of her sorrow.