“Everything is grey…”
He was standing there, right in front of her. She could easily close the space between them and never look back. But something stopped her.
He turned towards her, his blue eyes lighting up as he smiled happily. God, he was perfect. Well, no one is perfect, but he was so good, too good for her, for anyone.
She should just turn and walk away. End it. Once and for all. But she can’t. She won’t. She’s selfish, she knows it’s selfish. But she loves him. And love is both selfless and selfish.
He looks at her like she’s hung the moon. Like he’s so in love and will never fall out of love. His cheeks are rosy and his cute dimples show when he smiles. The freckles on his skin are adorable. The glasses he wears are adorable. His clothes are adorable. He is adorable. He is too good.
She’s known him for fifteen years. They met when they were five and running around with paint on their cheeks and mud on their hands and knees. She’s seen him cry and bleed, he’s seen her break and crumble. They’ve pieced each other back together over the years. And now, things were changing again. She wasn’t sure if she liked that.
God, she wants to kiss him. She wants to be held by him. Hugged by him, she wants his hands on her hips, in her hair, pressing her against his chest, she wants him. All of him, imperfections and flaws, she wants all of it, no matter what.
He wants the same. He wants her. That’s all he wants. Not in a sexual way (though, that with humans plays some part), but he just wants to wake up next to her and watch the sun rays dance across her face, he wants to hold her close while they watch films, he wants to hold her hand on the train home, he wants to buy her gifts just so he can see that blush on her cheeks, he wants her, he wants to touch her skin and kiss her lips.
He wants to see her smile, hear her laugh and her hilarious, sarcastic jokes. He wants to cry with her over Harry Potter and laugh with her over silly things. He wants to read to her and be read to. He wants to write with her, play music with her, sing with her – he wants whatever she’ll give him.
So close. He’s inches from her now. She can feel his breath on her lips. His eyes watch hers softly, asking for permission, ‘can I kiss you?’, they ask.
‘Yes,’ hers reply.
“Everything is blue…”