Black and White: The Beach

It was a black and white landscape. Black mascara eyes, white pinched cheeks. The wind whipped around her slim form as she stood, silently waiting.
Her feet were bare in the sand, toes damp from the waves. Her shoes lay cast to one side, stiletto heels thin and insubstantial in the sweeping landscape. She took a step forward, hesitatingly, until her feet brushed the waves, water sliding over her skin, and then back again, chasing its shadow back to the sea.
The night was dark and clear, sky towering on upwards above her bowed head. The stars were muffled and vague, marred by the lights from the town behind her. She shook her head slowly, and her hair slid out of its knot to fall down her back in a torrent of curls. The dark locks spilled across her skin, stark against the pale skin of her neck.
Her eyes were dark and widened with sorrow, mascara smudged around them making them hollow, gaunt. Her cheeks were pale and washed of makeup, smooth and clear in the dim light. Her lips were slightly parted as though her heart was trying to escape between them. The night around her was cold, but she wore nothing but a black dress pulled tight around her slender form, coat forgotten on the sand.
I took a step forward, half hearing the sand crunch under my feet. My eyes were on the curve of her bent neck, the sweeping of her hair over one shoulder, the way her feet burrowed into the ground beneath them. Before me, she stood, oblivious to my presence. Her arms were wrapped tight around her slender form, as though she held herself in desperation of comfort. The nails of one hand were long and elegant, the others short and bitten, skin pink with pain.
I took another step forward, deepening my step so that she heard and half turned towards me, movements quick with fear. Her eyes met mine, dark and fearful. I gazed back, my face filled with regret, with sorrow. Her shoulders heaved suddenly, as though she wanted to shout, or cry, but still she was silent. There we remained, locked in each others gaze.
A wave of water, cold and harsh, spilled over her feet, and she looked down, breaking the spell. Then she hurried forwards and gathered up her shoes and coat. She held them in front of her, behind crossed arms, as though they were a barrier she could put between us.
I spoke her name, just once, but she turned and walked away.