Holding hands

Sitting on the mountainside, looking over the valley, he smiles. He waits for the girl. It’s not certain if she will come walking from amongst the field of daffodils or she will be running at full speed to hold him in her arms. He keeps his guitar, his beloved guitar, close to him and listens to the sounds from down below. It calms him down while he waits. She is finally visible in the distance after some waiting and as was mostly expected, she arrived sooner because she ran. She ran to her beloved.

They sat on the ledge and kissed. One of his hands holding her long, silky hair while the other touched her face, they felt each other close. She pulled back and stared at him and just as suddenly her face broke into the beautiful smile that he always loved. Finally he plays for her, plays her favorite song. While he sits and strums the guitar, she gets up and takes a walk and sings along. He gets up and is still playing when she flirts with him all the while singing.  In that cold night, their warmth kept them cozy and alive. They lie on the ground and stare into the cloudless, moonlit sky, their fingers entangled with each other. It’s when she realizes he’s all she ever wished for.

He epitomized beauty with a subtle masculinity. With all that wonderful love he held for her, she felt secure in it. She felt electric mazes between both their minds where the dots connected and sparks flew. His touch became a thing to crave for, to see him she would fly anywhere, run everywhere. Everything was imperfect yet perfect. She couldn’t show him what he wanted but like the perfect embodiment of love that he was, he took it in his stride. She turned towards him, put her head on his chest and listen to his gentle heart beating with strong love. Sliding her hand down towards his limp hand on the side, she just kissed his head.

It had been many days since their individual pasts and excess baggage bogged them down. But they found each other, by mere chance. Those heavy weights were hard to shrug off, sticking to their naked bodies like beads of sweat on a sultry Sunday afternoon. It was hard for her; she begged and cried for the weights to lift off. And he came along; he held her hand and lightly lifted those bags and flung them out of the window. She has seen him in a different light, like perfect angelic, ever since. He was as human, flawed and chipped, as there ever was. But he was right on that edge of the perfect man any girl would wish for. The past dug deeply into him and all he did was wake up every morning, next to her, enjoy her beautiful face, wish for some bright sunshine and get ready for the day. His sleeping darling became the reason for his existence and for his perfection. He tried and became the man that she could keep forever. She never got to know about the turmoil inside him but he kept on loving her.

Both of them, tired and heavy, with all of the past mistakes and hopelessness, just held on each other. Breathing together, their nights became less lonely, even after the vast distance that separated them, they kept strong. The silences in their conversations turned comfortable, each of them breaking into a smile on both ends of the phone. It’s what he wished for, the happiness he could gift his beloved and she kept it all locked in a box of happiness in her heart.

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