Clockwork Heart

David Howey August 8, 2017
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She watched him glide across the dance floor from across the crowded room. For the first time in her all too short life she felt her heart, which had lain so cold, skip a beat. A smile touched her cold metallic lips, and she marvelled at the warmth that spread through her body. Her heart took its first tentative steps, into the world of true life.

As she watched from the shadows, little did she realise, he also watched her. He had seen her the moment he had taken to the floor, her perfect, measured movements and unintentional aloofness had caught his eyes. Had that been all he may have turned away, yet once his eyes met her eyes of quicksilver, so full of intelligence and innocence, his gaze never left her.

Slowly he moved to her side. He took her hand gently, drawing her towards him. He could see from the innocence in her eyes that this was the woman he would spend a life time with.

As his hand touched hers, her heart beat still quicker. She felt truly alive for the first time, yet her heart ached. She tried to still her heart, to ease the pain, yet it beat all the quicker, filling her body with life. She tried to step back, as the pain filled her heart, but her prince drew her closer and she did not, could not resist.

Her creator, the man she had called her father, had taught her all that he thought she would need. He had taught her, all he knew of physic, mathematics and alchemy. Yet he had missed the most fundamental of her teachings, how to dance; how to sing and most importantly, how to love. He had never taught her what love was, just warned her of the dangers of a broken heart. How could she protect herself from a broken heart, when she had never been taught of love? Yet she did not need this education to know that what she now felt was indeed love.

He took her gently in his arms and kissed her deeply. It was then that she knew her life was his. Her once cold heart of iron filled with joy as she came truly to life. From that night they lived each night as if it were their last, and with each beat of her aching heart their love grew stronger.

She did not heed her fathers warning of how delicate a heart could be. Her heart beat with a joy she could never have imagined and she accepted that this love was bought at the cost of the pain she felt in her heart. Yet it was a cost she would happily pay, to keep this happiness. Her clockwork heart, of iron, ached. It had never been built to beat as a heart filled with love, to beat full of joy, day after day. Her once bright, shining heart slowly, as all things wrought of men, wore down, her love taking all from her but her happiness.

Time passed so quickly for the young couple in love and on a day no different from all their other loved filled days, she looked deeply into the eyes of the man she loved. A man who had never treated her any different, not even with her clock work heart, or body wrought of steel. She watched him knowing deep down that this could never last. Yet her heart beat hard as he held her, her eyes telling him of the unending love she held for him. As they looked deep into each others eyes, for the first time he saw his love cry, one tear that strangely told him more of her love that all her smile and laughter ever could have.

This year they had stolen, was one of the truest love, yet still her heart broke with that love, not from sadness, but happiness. He knew something was horribly wrong and he held her close as she silently dropped to the floor, smiling a smile of truest love, as the most fragile treasure, her heart that made him love her so deeply, took her from him and he held her in his arms as she died of a broken heart.

He held her for all his life.

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