Under The Jasmine Tree ✔

♫ Worship

Apollo;

And I never left.

When the sun rose, her rays glaring into our eyes, I was still there. When my alarm buzzed for the hundredth time, I was still there. And when Lyra's phone rang repeatedly, I was still there, with Lyra in my arms.

She happens to be a deep sleeper, so all the noise our phones made did not stir her a bit. Add that to my selfish desire to keep her in my arms for the greatest time I could, making me snooze my alarms and mute her phone so I could have another minute of studying every crater, dent, and blemish on her face.

Whatever spell she has me under, I want to feel it forever.

Her breaths came out even and steady, her lips slightly opened letting air in and out. She had a small freckle on the end of her jaw and her nose had a small bump on the slope. Small things I haven't before about her were suddenly more prominent to me. Her hair, consisting of dark brown soft ringlets, was laid all around her.

I moved a small wavy strand of hair away from her eyes, making them slowly flutter open. Her brown irises met mine. The edge of her lips quirked up in a faint smile. "Good morning," Her morning voice was like her voice when she gets a cold like her vocal cords are still not awake yet.

"Morning." My thumb continued tracing her cheeks.

Lyra slowly sat up and leaned on my bed's headboard, ruffling my bed hair with her hand in the process.

"I would offer to make you breakfast, but I already planned for us to grab it along the way to the hill." I sat up from my bed and walked over to my closet. I picked out a sweater and a pair of sweatpants that Lyra would fit in, being close to my height, and threw them towards her.

She yelped when they landed on her face, "Hey! I wasn't prepared!"

"I thought you had 'killer reflexes." I chuckled at her stunned expression. "Come on, get ready. I'm going to pack our books."

I left my room and searched around my dorm for the books we would need to study, then packed them in a bag of mine. Lyra got out of my room and walked towards me with what I noticed was my guitar case and my lyric book in her hands.

I raised my brow and pointed at my belongings. "I thought you'd get motivated to write your music under the jasmine tree." She winked at me as she left my dorm. I shook my head with a chuckle and followed her out of the door.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

Romanticizing your life.

A prospect that has always wandered through my mind always felt so appealing. Only for it to seem damaging in the end. I've watched the sunrise, sat under the stars, listened to hummingbirds sing, and felt like my life was complete.

It wasn't.

I was busy making my life seem more mesmerizing than it is, even to my imaginary audience. I thought that if I made my life look okay, then it would inexplicably become okay. I thought it was a form of comfort I brought to myself but turns out, it was a means for me to cope and handle all I've been through.

A very beautiful girl, with brown eyes and curly black hair, once told me that we live for the sake of others around us, sometimes. Not for our own sake. She once made a promise with me and then told me that our burdens, no matter how major or small, are still burdens. That we should not indifference our loads because someone out there has it worse than us.

'Promise me, no matter who leaves you or who you lose, you're going to stand still and burn bright. Just like a star.'

'I promise you, Lyra. Promise me that you won't either.'