she, standing there right in the midst of a storm, would spread her arms, eyes closed, as if in prayer, and she would want to be numbed. she would want to stop feeling, she would question her own strength, and she would'nt feel strong. "this isnt how you should be feeling", they said, "your heart shoudnt be aching". she knew it too, yet she would give in to her own fears, fears and desires. like poison they would sear through her heart and reach her soul, and then her soul would reach out on instinct, as if to hold back someone..no, not just someone, him, always him.
struggling through staggering breaths, she tries to steady herself. she pulls her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, the chill reaching her bone-deep. she does not wish to leave, feeling as if a normal, quiet surrounding wouldnt understand her mind state, wouldn't participate, share... The storm, falling leaves, swaying trees and the distinctly singing breeze are like a response to her warring mind, and she would feel comforted.
but she cannot stand here forever, soon, too soon, even this storm will recover. As she turns to leave, stuck somewhere between badly wanting to leave, and never wanting to move at all, arms enfold her. The physical touch warms her every nerve, blood beginning to run like fire in her veins. she gasps in surprise, pure, wonderful, stunning beyond belief, surprise. And then, as the flood of barely suppressed emotions runs free, she sobs into his shoulder, grasping, holding on to him as if he were her only life support. She knows that touch, she would know it anywhere, so attuned was her soul to his, and so she does not raise up her eyes to meet his. He holds her tight, hanging on to her too. She wouldnt meet his eyes, but his fingers lightly pull her chin up, forcing her to meet his . The colour of a warm summer brown, they seem to burn in her pain.
He softly kisses her forehead, and despite herself, she smiles, a little shy now. Without need of words or explainations, they begin walking homeward. He holds her hand, keeping her close to him. No, he wouldnt lose her now, never. and so she walks with him, her broken heart mending with each step.
struggling through staggering breaths, she tries to steady herself. she pulls her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, the chill reaching her bone-deep. she does not wish to leave, feeling as if a normal, quiet surrounding wouldnt understand her mind state, wouldn't participate, share... The storm, falling leaves, swaying trees and the distinctly singing breeze are like a response to her warring mind, and she would feel comforted.
but she cannot stand here forever, soon, too soon, even this storm will recover. As she turns to leave, stuck somewhere between badly wanting to leave, and never wanting to move at all, arms enfold her. The physical touch warms her every nerve, blood beginning to run like fire in her veins. she gasps in surprise, pure, wonderful, stunning beyond belief, surprise. And then, as the flood of barely suppressed emotions runs free, she sobs into his shoulder, grasping, holding on to him as if he were her only life support. She knows that touch, she would know it anywhere, so attuned was her soul to his, and so she does not raise up her eyes to meet his. He holds her tight, hanging on to her too. She wouldnt meet his eyes, but his fingers lightly pull her chin up, forcing her to meet his . The colour of a warm summer brown, they seem to burn in her pain.
He softly kisses her forehead, and despite herself, she smiles, a little shy now. Without need of words or explainations, they begin walking homeward. He holds her hand, keeping her close to him. No, he wouldnt lose her now, never. and so she walks with him, her broken heart mending with each step.
