Thirty-Three.
It was sometime in spring, back simpler, more careless times, somewhere near Liverpool. Back in the day when on the second Friday of every month, there'd be a big bonfire somewhere in a forest in the outskirts of town; with music, people anywhere between fourteen and twenty-five, and I don't even want to know what else. The full moon would shed light, as the flames bore witness to teenage mistakes, set a scene for teenage romance, looked upon iffy decisions without judgement, and provided a warmth and comfort that nothing else could.
It was one of those Friday nights, a pretty but shy brunette finally decided to leave the company of her friend, who had issues getting her tongue out of the mouth of her new, who-knew-how-old boyfriend. She was fifteen then, and she'd never been here before, and her dislike of this grew with every minute she spent here. But she had nothing better to do, and, realistically, had no real clue how to get home. She sat, cross-legged on one of the hay bales away from her friend, absent-mindedly sipping her drink. From an overcrowded log about fifteen feet away, he noticed her, and broke from the group. He saw the perfect reflection of the flames in her eyes, as he stood for a moment, watching the shadows on her face. He saw them watching her, that group of guys, about his age. He could almost hear their words, as he knew, instinctively, they were fighting over who would "get" her.
And why wouldn't they. Her beauty struck him the second he saw her. On top of that, there was something about this girl. He'd been aching for something more than what he'd had in past relationships- and there were plenty. He'd never had troubles with girls; they were always pretty happy to give him what he wanted. He was seventeen now, he'd had his years of fun and semi-meaningful relationships. Lately, he'd been aching for something they hadn't been able to give him, and probably never could. Maybe it was the sort of girls he hung around, or maybe it was him. Or maybe both.
He watched the boys standing a couple feet away from her. One met his gaze- Dave. He shook his head just lightly, and Dave extended his arm out to block the guy who eventually decided to step towards her. The guy was angry, but Dave figured it out. He shot him a grateful glance, took a deep breath in and sat next to her. She looked up at him, and he saw a slight smile, and he knew.
And so did she.
&&&.
They sat up high in a tree branch overlooking the clearing, the fire, and the people. The crowd slowly thinned out and passed out, and the flames began to settle down as the sunrise drew near. They'd talked all night, and time flew. He was her type of guy, but beyond what she thought she could ever get. She was so different than the girls he knew, and he was so drawn to it. The sun started drawing a glowing line along the horizon, and the sky started lighting up. Some moments, she simply left him speechless. The way her hair fell over her shoulder, how every once in a while a strand would fall into her face, and all he could think about was reaching out and brushing it away. How dare it cover even the tiniest bit of her face? He watched her eyes light up as she laughed, smiling at how beautiful she really was. He realised he'd zoned out completely, and was just staring at her strangely now, when she suddenly stopped laughing.
"What?" she cocked her head to the side in question.
"Nothing." He smiled.
"What is it?" It had taken him a mere few hours to work out she never gave up.
He couldn't help but smile. She lightly punched him in the arm.
"Stop that!"
But he saw the corners of her mouth twitch. He saw a smile coming on. He laughed a little, and went to kiss her. He paused, his lips barely a centimetre from hers. It took him true courage to open his eyes and look back up into hers. Here he sat, on an iffy branch, a couple of metres up a tree, and his greatest fear was rejection. Like this was the last girl on earth. Like if she didn't want him, he didn't have another that would. Oh, but the sweet taste of her breath on his lips. He looked up to meet her gaze, her green eyes deeper than the seas; he felt a longing greater than anything he could've ever imagined. His urge to feel her lips on his, to wrap his arms around her, to run his hand through her hair, to touch her face, ever-so-lightly; became uncontrollable. And yet somehow, in his wild longing for this girl's touch, he wished this moment could last forever.
