I haven't heard from
Paloma nor Tatianna
for weeks.
Finally they knew
I wanted nothing
to do with their
troubling issues.
Mr. Campbell
has been speaking
about a new promotion,
but I didn't really
care for it.
All I wanted
in the moment
was already obtained.
For once,
everything felt right.
Suddenly,
I felt someone jump
on my back.
"Becky told me
I'd find you here."
Feeling her grin
against my neck
gave me a
unbelievable feeling
like a kid on
Christmas morning.
I let her back
on ground level
and faced her.
Clever girl.
"The Cup Of Love, huh?"
She reads on the plaque
below the painting.
Well to me,
Cupid accepts both
the female and male
as a couple.
Not really sure though,
but reminds you of
anyone?
"I can get used to
hearing your comparisons
of art to us, forever."
She presses her lips
against mine;
The kiss, even after so many,
still gave me a feeling
of a war going on in my stomach.
Every day,
in the city that never sleeps,
people search endlessly for this.
Here,
in front of Cupid,
we found what 8.4 million people
searched desperately for: love.
Just like back in September,
we walked towards the elevator,
hand-in-hand.
Standing in the box,
we shared another kiss
just like the first night.
For a second I pulled away,
and looked into her
pale green eyes.
Lydia, there is no doubt
that you are the one
I want to discover and experience
life with for the rest of our time.
I want to witness the aesthetic
outside the city with you: In Paris,
London, Italy, L.A., Brazil.
I love you.
The elevator doors open
and Lydia walks out with her hand out
with a huge smirk on her face.
"What are you waiting for, cowboy?
We've got so much to do."
A laugh escapes
as I grab her hand
and walk out the doors
into the greatest aesthetic of all:
the world.
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetic
Short StoryEvan is not sure if its the art or her that takes his breath away. Highest Rank: #135 in Poetry; #604 in Short Story
