Happy Birthday, Darling

The sky was dark. Not cloudy and scary dark, but a beautiful shade of violet blue, dark with large silver stars twinkling in a pattern like large fireflies miles away. The rolling fields that had once glowed a soft emerald in the light of the crescent moon above now burned a dull green below, the plant dying as quickly as others around the world did. Soon, the people had no doubt, Blacrock, Cork, Ireland would soon resemble the rest of the world. Dusty, desolate, and separated from the world by a wall. The lakes and rivers were drying quickly, and the old buildings were crumbling. Blackrock Castle had stood sturdy and proud since the late sixteenth century,  built  after the citizens of Cork appealed to Queen Elizabeth I to construct a fort at Blackrock to repel pirates and other invaders. Since then, the castle had slowly withered away, though it still stood proud as it was chipped away, piece by piece. By now, all that remained was small sections of the ramparts just off the water's edge. No one suggested a restoration project, and no one complained. There was no point in it. Soon, the tower would fall as well, and soon Blackrock would be another city, walled and "protected" by the clergy from the "vampire menace". They'd take people away and train them, like had people form other places in the world. They'd taken people from everywhere except there so far. Spain, Britain, France, Asia, everywhere. Now was just Ireland. Everyone thought about it. Everyone was afraid of it. Well, everyone but two.

The year was one that couldn't be pinpointed by either. They didn't think about it, ever. They were in that kind of love, the one where nothing else mattered but the person you were with and what they were saying and feeling. It was that sort of love. They completed their sentences, held hands every second they could, and bickered as if they were an old married couple, though they'd only been married a few years. He was maybe 20, her 19. They were inseparable, and Blackrock Castle was their place. More or less. Now, they stood a top the crumbling ramparts, right hand twined with left hand, her body pressed to his, shivering. He kept her close, his arm around her, his chest heaving slightly as he chuckled, earning himself a soft glare from her, which just made him laugh more. Scowling, she pulled herself from his arms, crossing her's and looking at him in the light of the crescent moon., her
"Just what is so funny?" she asked, brown eyes staring up a him. Their height wasn't too different, but it was just enough where she had to look up to see him. His blue and green eyes were smiling themselves, sparkling with amusement as they looked down at the blond haired woman before him.
"You are, my dear." he said softly, uncrossing her arms and taking her hand once more. She allowed this, grumbling.
"And why am I so amusing to you?!" she asked, still glaring, though it had softened somewhat.

"Well, you see darling, you wear a thin blue skirt, and a silky purple shirt that's lighter still and stand shivering. It is cold out, did you not think of that?" he questioned, looking at her lovingly. Her cheeks flushed, though not from the cool breeze that blew through the town and all around them.
"...Yes, I did, think you very much." she pulled her hand from his once more and crossed her arms over her chest, shivering once more. He rolled his eyed and pulled her to him.
"Don't lie, Irene. You dressed like this just so I'd have to hold you the whole time, didn't you?" he asked, a smile playing his lips in the silence. She remained quiet, staring up at him, her answer soon escaping her lips in a sigh.
"Yes John, that's exactly why." she murmured, resting her head on his chest. He smiled, holding her close still.
"I thought so." he murmured softly and hugged her tightly, rewarded with her pale, slim arms coming up to encircle his neck, returning the affection. The man smirked and began to sway silently with her, sliding one hand along her arm slowly, finding her hand and taking it in his own. She shook her head a little, her hand sliding down from his neck to rest on his shoulder, feeling his other move to the small over her back.

Her head came to rest upon his chest one more as she nuzzled against him, swaying happily to a song only they could hear. She imagined it was some soft sweet melody, wishing she could know if she was hearing the same one as he was. She closed her eyes, listening to the none existent music that played in time with the beating of his heart. Their bodies rocked slowly back and forth as they stood there upon the ramparts of the crumbling castle. She was content, and he seemed so as well.

Silently, his arms were pulled back from around her and her brown eyes fell upon his face, frowning and wrapping her arms around herself, shivering.
"John, why did you let go?" she asked quietly. He smiled and kissed her softly before pulling her hand into his, playing with the ring on her finger.
"Let's go home. It's cold out, and I'm sure Eamon misses us." he said gently. Her face lit up at the mention of the little boy waiting at home for them and she nodded her head in agreement, happily following as he led her back down from the top of the ramparts and to the ground. They hurried along the old roads, smiling and talking happily, one of them stopping once and a while to pick at the other, grinning. It was a wonder how they were able to be around outside at night like this without getting caught by a vampire. Then again, they didn't worry even if something had caught them. John was, in Irene's words, "an absolutely amazing fighter." He disagreed.

It was silent out below. The sound of the cold winter wind was, somehow, not as noticeable on the ground as it had been up on the ramparts. But then again, neither of the two had really noticed the sound up there either. If one was to cast a guess as to the exact month, it was either early December or late November. The weather was bitter cold,small flakes of white drifting down every now and again, catching in their hair and settling upon their eyelashes. Irene happily let go of McGrath's hand, dancing about a little. The next year would be the first of many years where the rain would replace the beauty of a frozen blanket of white upon the ground with muddy puddles and shuttered windows. Oh it would snow again again, that was for sure.

It didn't snow much in Blackrock, that was true, but when it did it was like magic. Irene was a little funny and had her own little...silly things. The woman would always turn her brown eyes upon her young husband and smile at the first sign of a snow flake, giggling softly and kissing him gently before saying to him "Make a wish on the new snow, my love." and he wpuld laugh, and they'd both wish for the same thing. A happily ever after together with Eamon and anyone else who happened to come along. They never said, but they both knew it was the same wish from them both. Always.