the man, the moth, the legend
the sky fell dark and shadows covered most of the roads, besides the ever soft glow coming from the street lamps. she walked along the sidewalk, hurrying home as the sun set. *it gets dangerous at night*, they all say. she knows. people try to mug others, sometimes people get snatched in the night. but she lost track of time and couldn't find a ride. it happens.
a figure could be seen walking up ahead the street. she knew she should probably slow down or cross to the other side, away from other people. but something told her to stay, to continue. so she did. her walking speed eventually caught her up to the other individual and their eyes met. she didn't expect to stare back at something red and glowing. her heart dropped, as did her lips, but she didn't feel scared. just shocked.
“sir,” the words escaped her mouth, not knowing what to say. she tried to look closer at the man's face, but all she saw was black. she stopped in her tracks and turned to reach out to him, but she returned her hand back to herself when she couldn't see a face. the man turned towards her and in the dark, she could make out a pair of wings behind him. she stared at him as he stared at her. *its him*, she thought.
he turned away from her, but she couldn't tell what emotion he felt at that moment — if he could even feel any at all. but she knew he couldn't stay. she looked at the pattern on his wings before feeling a gust of wind when he flew off. she won't forget those soft red eyes of his any time soon, and she hopes to run into him again.