[Elven_Author]: 414.Short Story 1

This is a little story I did for a writing competition. It's a romance, and it does go into a little bit of detail, but not much really... 
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The Nuns Lover

The moonflowers shone dimly in the pale moonlight. Their subtle scent surrounded her in a delicate wave. She knelt down among the tiny flowers and closed her eyes, thinking about what had happened last night. Her mind raced as the memories returned, overwhelming her with emotion and understanding.

It shouldn’t have happened. She was meant to stay a virgin for the rest of her life. That was why she had sworn her life to God. Why she lived in the convent, away from the world of men. She hadn’t wanted anything from them, and found them boorish and egotistical. She had never dreamed that one of those proud men could possible have looked on her with more than a mild interest in her delicate features. But then again, she’d never thought to meet someone like Damien.

Damien. Her dear, sweet lover. The man who had taught her everything about love and affection that he possibly could. With those tender smiles meant only for her, and that gentle, lilting laugh that could make her go weak at the knees like nothing else. Green eyes as dark as the forest and thick brown hair that just brushed his shoulders. How she loved that hair, and the way it slipped smoothly through her fingers like silk. 

She knew that she shouldn’t have noticed him. That she shouldn’t have let his softly whispered words lull her into his arms that first night on the balcony. But he had been so enticing, so handsome and so… devoted. Devoted to making her feel wanted. Devoted to making her feel loved. So she had let him, even while she was wearing her habit. She had let him pull her into his arms and let his firm soft lips tease hers. Had let his tongue slip gently into her mouth, igniting such feelings in her that she had never even dreamed could exist. 

She should have made him stop. Should have left him to stand on the balcony alone, or to find another woman to share it with. But she hadn’t been able to. She had let him plunder her mouth and her head of all rational thought. That kiss, although brief, had ignited the woman in her, and she had wanted more. That night, Damien had won a heart that was not hers to give. Won a soul that was already taken. 

She had tried to avoid Damien. Tried to wipe her memories of him from her mind. But he had found her time after time everywhere she went. She would be alone, and he would come upon her, and sweep her into his arms and kiss her until all thought of evading him left her. Until the only thing in her mind was Damien. Her Damien.

He had never forced her to do anything she didn’t want to. He had guided her through her fears and turned them into emotions so pure and wonderful that she had thought the world would end if she couldn’t be with him. And last night, she had given him all of herself. Her heart. Her soul. Her body. 

She remembered every detail. The lithe grace of his perfectly toned body moving against hers. His eyes dark with passion as he plundered her of her safely kept virginity with all the gentleness of a summer’s breeze. She’d known the consequence, and she’d been prepared for it. But she hadn’t been prepared for what really happened last night. Hadn’t been prepared for the nuns and guards to storm into Damien’s chamber. 

But they had. And they had taken Damien away, dragged him from her arms as if he were dirt. He had struggled, tried to return to her loving embrace, but they had held him fast. She had still been weeping in shock and dismay when they stood her before the Mother Superior. Sister Augusta had discharged her, stripped her of her habit and her oaths and declared her an outcast. A sinner. The other nuns had packed what few belongings she had, mainly gifts from her beloved Damien, and thrown her out to fend for her self. 

She had walked for miles under the stars. Walked until she could walk no more. That was how she came to be there, on that hill surrounded by moonflowers. That was her sad story of life, love and loss. Now she had nothing but the few small things that Damien had given her and the thin clothes on her back. 

Kneeling there in the dew, she closed her eyes and wept. Wept for all that had happened. Wept for the love of her life, the man she would never see again. She didn’t know what would happen to her now, or what had happened to him. All she knew was that without him, her life wasn’t worth living. 

She looked up as the first of the sun’s rays shone on the horizon and blinked. A figure was walking towards her. A figure that moved with such grace and assurance that there was no doubt it belonged to someone of noble birth. A figure that she knew so well; broad shouldered, long limbed muscular. She roamed her eyes over his body and studied his face as he stopped in front of her. 

His eyes twinkled merrily and that warm, slow smile spread across his full, expressive lips as he reached out a hand to her.

“Damien.”