"And if the sky should ever die.
We'd make our own light,
You and I."
~John Mark Green
————
March 31st, 1971.
Pierce held the bunch of pink roses in his hand, the cold wind in the atmosphere running chills down his spine.
He adjusts his coat on his arms, his feet moving automatically to his destination. The place he's grown onto because of the vessel he had invested his feelings into.
He could do this, how hard could it be?
Occasionally he'd bring her flowers, he thought of it as a peace offering, in a way to make her stay. Each soft petal reminded him of her skin, the concept of her orientation sexually.
Although he barely saw Funmi after that day, he sends her roses to compensate for his absence.
It's never goodbye. Just see you soon.
She sits by her window today, her head rested in her hands as she just stares into nothing. Her brown eyes drifted to the walking figure that stops by the window.
It's the same spot they'd first seen one another.
His chocolate hair she constantly ran her fingers through anytime they were alone. His thin lips mouthed the words she had grown accustomed to for the past weeks. Unlike any other the day he held flowers, beautiful pink flowers.
Every time their eyes meet, it was a whole euphoric feeling entirely. It took them out of this world, she gazed into the darkness that held stars and he drowned in the sweetness of honey and chocolate.
"Come here." His voice was gruff and barely above a whisper.
She smiles, butterflies fluttering dangerously in her stomach at the mere sight of him. He steps in, handing her the roses, the scent of coffee stuck to his skin and beckoned her to cling to him.
"Come here." She could finally hear his voice above the wind. She steps closer, feeling his exhales against her skin.
He looks around, his defences up. "He's out." She says, stroking his skin. "He won't be back for a while."
He looks over to her, affection bleeding into his being at her gentleness. He loves Funmi, he's in love with her so much.
"I love you." She stares up at him as the words left her lips. It's just been months but it feels longer.
She doesn't know exactly why she said it that way or the magnitude it carries but it seems to please Pierce.
He doesn't know what to say, the word feels miniature— a joke in his eyes because of how abused it's been by people. What he feels was beyond words especially love but how could he bring himself to explain it to her.
He tugs at the thin linen that drapes her body, pulling her towards him. His skin feels hot as he brushes his hands against her cleavage. He watched her lick her lips, her eyelids concealing her honey coated eyes.
She exhales sharply, standing up to her toes to kiss him. His skin was a shade pinker and he knew it. Her nose brushes against his repeatedly. Funmi smiled lightly, he had always teased her like this even when she explained she was impatient. He found it funny while she didn't and now she found him just to be as vulnerable as her.
YOU ARE READING
Not more than strangers✔️
Short Story|Completed| What happens when you drop a pebble in still water and the rippling effects of its presence can't be ignored. Meeting someone would have been coincidental, could have been fate or perhaps a mistake like bumping shoulders in a mass of peo...
