“We both really like water, don’t we?”
Under the new dawning sky, the currents sloshed viciously, glistening foam crowns slid on their heads as they submitted to the wind. It was one of those nights. For once, the air felt more like cream and the light of the night begged to avoid the evanescence that would soon dawn on them.
The boy’s face was lit with beams of blue neon. A crimson collar licked at his neck, flattened by the weight of his olive green jacket. He was shivering. The girl wouldn’t look for too long; every glance was harder to retreat from. Though she had accepted the impossibility, she could not help but feel her heart pounding with each second longer she spent considering the feel of her palms against his. It felt ludicrous just how much she longed for the blanket of his hands, the warmth of his chest against her chattering cheeks. She snorted.
“What?”
“I don’t know why I’m laughing.”
“Yes, you do.”
The girl choked another laugh again, her voice strained, pained, regretful. The air was cold, but she felt herself perspiring under her clothes just enough to prove her guilt. Overtaken by taunting tremors, her heart had been strangling her through the whole spell. The waves kept battling their war and her physique fought its own: a mangy and viscous attack to break her down to a crumpled, wasted pile of flesh. He was looking at her. She found a breath.
The boy placed his hand on the low of her back, sending chills sorrowfully through her. His hand felt warm and she liked where it sat.
“I’m not going to lean on your shoulder—”
“Please,” He broke in, ”Please do.” His eyes were so wide, so captivating; helplessly holding her hostage.
A short breath escaped from her lips. He was shorter than her, but she found a way to nuzzle her head into the crook of his neck, just enough so that his warmth engulfed her face and her cheeks melted against him. It felt like home.
The two fell into silence for a spell. He craned his neck so that he could have her as close to him as possible. She listened in his chest to a pounding steady heartbeat, pulling her closer with each placid pulse. The quiet held them; drew them into a euphoria, destined to be ephemeral. The short moment was made to last ages as they fought valiantly against the dictatorship of time.
“This is so wrong.” She accused herself vocally, but her words found no true grip on her actions. They stayed there, looking out onto the violent ripples. The current was destined to remain vicious, uncontrollable, unpredictable. They found peace in the stillness of the dawning sky, and hope in the foaming waves.
