by Mizu

Created on: January 30, 2009

He touched my hand. He
touched my hand. I didn`t know what to do. My breath sharply drew back into my body, and my hand flinched involuntarily. He blushed. Sorry he said. I didn`t know what to do. I smiled weakly and put my hand on his. Almost. I tried. I really did. But then he did it again. He touched me again. This boy, who I had admired from afar for so long was next to me. On purpose. He wanted to be. His finger slowly crept over me, playing the piano on my fingers and the violin on my heartstrings. No. Not the violin, the harp. He was plucking at my heart. He should have known. He should have known that it was already firmly in his grasp.

He should have seen the yearning in my eyes. And my body. The way I always gravitated to him, But then, so did everyone else. And somehow. Somehow this boy that everyone wanted, wanted me. I think. I think he wanted me. All of me. I felt myself tense up, and blush, and he took my hand in his. I looked at him. He was looking at the kids in the park. Smiling. He looked at me and noticed I was watching and blushed. He wanted kids some day he told me. I told him I did too. I did not say it, but I thought about if he and I would have a child together. How wonderful it would be. But then. I am just a silly teenager.

He took my hand. And stood up. He pulled, just a little tug, and I was up. He began to walk, and so I followed him. I would follow him anywhere. I would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked. But he didn`t. He asked me to go for ice cream. I think that was a better choice. I had to be home for dinner. To think, that such mundane tasks and event could still unfold, when all the universe should stop and stare at the events taking place right there. He of all people was holding my hand. He was walking with me. He asked me to go for ice cream. He knew I existed. What could be more wonderful ? How could daily life continue without stopping to acknowledge such events?

They say that once in every life there comes a love that is so pure, so perfect, it simply cannot last. I don't think that applied. Ours was pure, ours was perfect. It still is. And It won't end. We are going to defy the rule. We are going to write the new laws of love. Legends and tales will be written about us, statues carved in our honour. Play writes will, for centuries, attempt to capture the rapture and power of our romance. Artists will forever attempt to convey the feelings and unspoken words that we share. Music will try to reach the height of our voices, and dancers will forever try to be as fluid and graceful as we were in each other's arms. None shall be able to do what they strive to, for nothing could ever be as flawless as what we shared.

In my mind I knew exactly what he would taste like when he kissed me. He would taste warm and soft and comforting. He would taste like home and love. But when he kissed me. Oh yes he kissed me, he did not taste of any of those things. He tasted of stardust and hopes. He tasted of wishes made on stars, and the end of the rainbow. He tasted like summer storms and the smell of the earth after it rains. He tasted of fresh snow, and the rustle of autumns leaves. His lips pressed against my mine, moist, but not wet, soft, yet with power.
After he pulled away, it was an eternity we kissed for, yet less than a breath of a second, yes, after he pulled away I saw in his eyes that shine. The love.

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