Did he just say beautiful? Funny thing, that. The word beautiful appearing so much in the shape of a kiss when spoken, that it is nearly unmistakable to the eyes, no matter how anticipated a grotesquery may be by the broken. As she oversaw his lips travel as if listening to a far off circle of secret music, it was the only one she was able to grab from the funeral pyre before it was pushed out into the river. Lost.
It was then she realized something... of course, he was familiar. Nothing nice ever happened to her without consequence. He was a face in a park somewhere gloomy. He was an unsuspecting victim. He was a dim reminder of all things unpretty in that moment, and she looked terribly confused by the recognition. Heart following the thunderous gallop of horses. Was she mistaken? Wouldn't he have known?
The disoriented corpse-bride turned around and away quickly, punched a mailbox so hard with the knuckle of her Hello Kitty bandage that the other locks rattled visibly, and began to walk away.