She can remember the way the wind blew that day. A comforting chill met with the soothing afterglow of the sun's rays. The moment she had goosebumps it was washed away with the warm antipation of his touch. A touch she hadn't ever experienced, though their previous tantalizing dialogue gave her much to look forward to. And she did.
She knew the moment she saw him in real life, the moment she caught a glimpse of him appear beyond the automatic sliding doors, that she really liked him. He quickly retreated from sight and began again, walking along the airport pavement. Could he be nervous? It was an admirable thing too, because so was she. And if he were nervous, that means he liked her too. The months of back & forth written conversation had swooped her up like a pleasant tornado. Whirling and whipping her through the many possibilities of endless love and passionate elation.
Her clammy hands gripped her luggage, as she exhaled one last time before being greeted with the sun. It wasn't until she turned her head left, that she saw the insouciant man sitting before her with a bouquet of smiling roses, one rose with a celestial charm.
The two strangers grinned at each other with a koi sense of familiarity. The sense that they've been incessantly pondering over the other from the moment the seed of intrigue was planted. She was ready to unload nearly sixteen weeks of lust.
Sixteen weeks of intimate, persuading words.
Sixteen weeks of wondering if this could turn into something substancial.
Sixteen weeks of feeling completely weightless.
Sixteen weeks of marinating in sexual anticipation.
And there they were. Moving closer and closer to each other. The closest they've ever been, but not the closest they'll ever get.
She loved him.
It had been a gradual ascension, from the way he laced his words together whilst describing his love for garlic, to the electricity in how he held her when they kissed. It was everything and it was everywhere. The way his hair fell unfastidiously, the slow calming motion in which smoke left his lips, even the simplicity of him asking her to choose a record. He had the sly wisdom of a Buddhist Monk and the sexual aptitude of a Tantric Master.
They let each other in during those ten days they spent together. A week and a half designated to momentous sex, glorious food, and the shared love for marijuana, video games, vinyl records, cartoons & "The Three Stooges". It was an experience she found to be beyond blissful.
...such was life for the once strangers turned star-gazed lovers. The days were spent yearning for the other, the thoughtless nights spent in each others arms, sprawled in sexual oasis, drinking wines, eating delicious fruits and indulging in succulent meats. Their very own naked paradise.
Their time spent together was fructiferous and profuse with affection, even during arid stages, the matter of love was never questioned.
The habitual throes of any romantic relationship took place, but they each found solace in the warmth of each other's company, further proving to one another that their love was evolving. Beyond being copacetic, they were reconnecting in a way they hadn't in longer than both of them wanted to admit.
She'll tell him that she still falls for him every single day. And that if a single kiss could translate her love for him, they'd be kissing for an eternity. She would remind him of the way he can still fascinate her by pointing out constellations in the dark indigo sky. The way he can still make her feel precious by baby-talking in half words and sentences. The way he can still make her blush after groping her in public. The way she can feel him get high when he breaths deeply from her skin. The way her heart whispers when he cuddles up to her. The way he exposed her to sushi! The way he got her a stepping stool, but she secretly still wants him to get things for her anyway...
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