Ablackwing

Side Story: The Most Beautiful

My Black raised his head from my lap and sat down. He looked at me curiously, as if he was thinking of something.

The next moment, I saw his hand reaching my feet just like how the paw of a tiger reaches its prey. My reflexes tried to act and prevent him, but he was too quick. I couldn't provide any resistance as he forcefully pulled my legs and laid me down on the couch.

The couch was small, and it wasn't enough for both of us. So I tried to occupy as small space as I could in the corner. He laid down beside me. He then picked me up as if I was a doll and placed me on his chest. That was the first time I was manhandled.

"It's much better now," Black said while adjusting himself on the couch and placing his arms around my waist to support me. Truth be told, his chest was much more comfortable than that small space on the couch. He held me tightly so that I wouldn't fall. A blanket appeared over us and it felt like it was marking a small space that belonged to us.

He started playing with my hair with his left hand. The way he gently comforted me felt nice. His other hand searched for my hand and held it firmly. Our fingers embraced each other and enclosed themselves. His hand was soft and warm.

"Do you know holding your hand is the most beautiful thing in this world?" I told him. Little did I know that my words would start a war.

"Cuddling with you is the most beautiful thing in this world," Black said in a playful voice.

"Now I think of it, listening to your sweet voice would be the most beautiful thing." I looked in his eyes so that he knows that I meant my words. Even my friends called him Mr Sweet Voice.

"Looking at your gorgeous eyes is the most beautiful thing."

"Have you never seen a mirror? Your emerald eyes are much more beautiful. A thousand times more." He didn't reply to me, and I continued. "Just your presence is most beautiful."

"Your sweetness is."

"Your lips are."

"Your scent is."

"Your skin is."

"Your smile is."

And just like that, we were engaged in a sweet fight, complementing each other. My words were well thought and meticulous, but his words were simple and straightforward. Yet there was a stalemate. We kept fighting like that for a while. The atmosphere heated up, and neither of us wanted to give up and admit defeat.

As I kept thinking of what to say next, I realized I was lying on his chest. I could hear his heartbeats faintly. I changed my position so that I could hear it clearly. And they sounded like his heart was playing an opera. I could keep listening to that heavenly music for my whole life.

"Your heartbeats are the most beautiful thing in this world."

He kept silent after that, and it appeared he didn't know what to say. I thought that I had won with that little game. I put my arm on his chest and raised my head so that I could look at him. I grinned, raised my eyebrows and laughed in my victory.

He stared at me and started thinking of what to say. I could see fighting spirit burning in his eyes. He hadn't given up. Soon he placed his hand on my face. His hand made its way forward and pushed a few loose strands of my hair behind my ears. His thumb rubbed my cheek again. He spoke in a bewitching voice that made my heart beat faster than a bullet train.

"The most beautiful thing in this world... is you..."

He said with such passion that I couldn't say anything else in reply after that. It's not always necessary to win. Sometimes, there's a special charm in losing too. I accepted my defeat, but I'd gladly accept defeat if I'm fighting against him.

"You too."

At that time, I didn't realize that I would doze off with him on the couch and Aunt Emi scolded me next morning for sleeping in a cold place...