Kiss.
The world had seemed to stop. Nothing else mattered in this moment but the joyful reunion of the flowers, slowly becoming entangled yet again every time their lips locked.
But the kissing had to come to a stop. Flowers need oxygen after all.
"Jenna." Tyler breathed, holding her face, the faint comings of a smile tugging at the corners of his dry, cracked lips.
"Yes Tyler?" Jenna asked, still crying. They were both still crying.
"I can't breathe." The flower laughs softly, breathlessly into his flowers lips.
The daisy immediately jumps from his touch as to not cut off his oxygen supply any longer. She readjusted the cannula that had so gracefully fallen onto the wrinkled bedsheets.
The red-petaled best friend enters, His reunion with Tyler is nostalgic. Tyler hugs Josh and slaps his back with the palm of his hand, then they both take part in some secret handshake they had created in the twilight hours.
"I've never been more happy to see ya buddy."
"I'm glad to see you too Josh."
A doctor enters.
"We don't know how it happened, but you're perfectly fine now. No brain damage or mobility damage, no speech damage either. That's very odd considering that you were in such a serious car crash before. It seems to me just about three more days until you can go home."
Happiness.
The doctor exits. The three rejoice.
"Ty! You get to go home!"
"I can't wait dude! We're gonna play so much Mario Kart!"
"I can't wait!" Tyler exclaims with the excitement of a school girl.
Josh exits the room to go get water for Tyler. I'm left sitting by his side, holding his hand and smiling.
"I love you." Tyler whispers. The morphine is slowly consuming him into a deep sleep. He was taking it for his broken leg and his broken foot, which he received during the rough landing of the plane, after a 15 pound suitcase landed directly on his leg.
"I love you too baby. Get some rest." The daisy whispers, kissing his forehead to ease his pain.
"I love you. For all eternity." Tyler mumbles as the cloud-like hands of sleep slowly wrap themselves around him.
Run a hand through his mocha brown hair. Trace the small scar on his lip from the night everything tasted like pennies. Run a thumb over his soft warm cheek, admiring the slight blush tone, and the dots of freckles splattered and thrown across his face, as if God was trying to copy a Pollock painting when making Tyler.
"And I you my love. And I you."
