In an ordinary white, four-walled room, he sat in front of a not so ordinary girl. For almost two years he studied the way strays of her silky hair waved beside her temple to the crinkle between her brows when she was deep in thought. She was always deep in thought; in that brilliant, beautiful mind. He watched her fingers fondle the curve in the handle of the ceramic coffee cup before lifting it to her pink parted lips.
Always three scoops of sugar and too much cream. Like her coffee, she was too sweet, too hot, too full of flavor and too strong. Strong willed. Strong minded. She didn’t know it. She was too busy contemplating existentially about this, that and the universe as the cream swirls in her cup.
There wasn’t a sound in the room and they didn’t dare spare a word to break the peace. But there was music. A composition made of heart beats, rhythmic respiration and intravenous harmonies. A symbiotic symphony between lovers.
Her eyes darted around the room until she noticed his blanketing her. As if his glance disrupted whatever she was thinking, she froze. Her eye lashes swooping down. And there it is. She flashed that look. That look that made him fall in love with her in the first place. She bit her lip and let a smile crawled across her cheeks. She was bashful. Her eyes opened slowly, first looking down at her hands and then up until those brown eyes fell deeply into his. She was beautiful.
They looked at each other for far too long.
But long enough to know that one could not leave the other.
this is so very beautiful.xo
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