amaranthine
(adj.) eternally beautiful and unfading; everlasting, undying, immortal
|English|
Whenever he thinks he cannot love her any more than he already does, a new wave of pure want, affection and need pulses through him, shooting straight into his heart, leaving a trail of sheer fascination in its wake, faster than a shooting star, deeper than the sea with more urgency than a 911, so that he doesn't really have time to react. He can just stand there, letting this feeling surge through his body. When she puts her hand over his, she touches his heart. Always has, always will.
Sometimes he thinks that they will never work out, that it doesn't make sense they made it this far. Because he feels like a sad song with nothing to say, when she is the next number one hit. He's the guy she'd never take a second look at under normal circumstances. She's the girl he's always smiling for. If she was a mountain, he'd be a valley. If she was a cloud, he would always be chasing her, always close to reaching but never touching her. But even though she is all of that and he is nothing, he is convinced of the fact that she belongs with him and that he belongs with her.
Because he would rather have her hate him than be loved by someone else. He'd rather spend forever breathing for her than have her not be by his side. And even during his bad days, when everything seems to fall apart, he still knows it is supposed to be her. Always her. And he knows that his memories of her will forever tattoo his mind and soul. And even though it might be selfish of him, he could never let her go and be with someone else because he cannot face not waking up to her face, and really, for him nothing could be better than the way they are. They are supposed to be together, he is sure of that.
It's not just love what he feels for her, it's so much more than that. It's this stupid way she makes him feel, makes him act. And even when all is said and done, he will still tell her how much he loves her because he never gets tired of saying those three words to her.
Between conversations and dinner, everything just fell into place. When they fight, he is more afraid of losing her than wanting to win their argument. What for is beyond him anyways. The morning after their first night together, he thought – no feared – she would just take off like a drag from a cigarette.
But she surprised him by staying and wearing his dress shirt from the night before to breakfast. Since then the surprises keep coming. From her admission that she can't sleep without at least one light on, to her impersonation of Eleanor Roosevelt.
With her, he wants to get lost, wants to take the long way home at the end of their days just to spend some more time with her, even though he gets to spend the entire evening with her. Lucky him.
People who tell them they shouldn't be together don't realize how much she's changed him. Don't know the lengths he would go to for her. But he does. He feels more than words can describe, feels deeper than cuts run, feels stronger than the beat in a new song.
All she's ever known is talk and all he's ever known is touch and go. And now all they know is holding on to each other and never letting go. And he wonders how they ended up here. How they started talking in the first place. All he remembers is her saying, "I'm Deputy Director, Leslie Knope." But now they are here and it's paradise.
But all of that was too good, too much, too soon, too strong. Like coffee without any milk or sugar. They had to come crashing down at some point and they did when they had to break up. But they found a way out because he always thought they were a dream but now they are reality. Because she is his reality.
:fin:
