He squints as the sun shines brightly, the rays glaring in his eye, blotting out every other sense and obscuring his sight. He shifts and raises his hand to his forehead, blocking out what light he can. Yet, the light is still there, blinding him, walking towards him, scorching his skin, burning him from the inside out. He feels the heat, spreading and covering every hurt, every disappointment, every worry. They just melt away under the intense searing blaze. All that is left is a raw, tingling feeling. Every nerve ending is alive, seeking the spark of hope, the burst of relief.
He shakes his head, trying to clear his vision, afraid some cruel trick of fate has him seeing a shimmering mirage, like a man dying of thirst, wandering the desert. Yet, raising his gaze back to the horizon, he sees it is no trick. She is still coming, moving closer, slowly and deliberately making her way to him.
She reaches her hand and cups his face, and it is cool, like that drink of water, quenching his thirst, washing away the burnt remnants of disillusion. Her eyes, blue as the sky, look directly into his, seeing it all. He cannot hold it back and his vision clouds with unshed tears. He swipes them away with the back of his hand and it is then that he sees her pain, pouring out of her, unchecked by any defense. Her face is crumpled, eyes spilling her own tears and streaming down her face, washing tiny, white river streams in the layers of road dust and grime. Gone are any attempts to appear okay.
He knows.
He can read her, just as she can read him.
He steps to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her gently into himself, enveloping her. For the first time of his own volition, he is offering another person physical comfort, and it doesn't bother him as much as he thought it would. It doesn't leave him feeling vulnerable, it leaves him feeling whole. He presses his cheek to her head and feels her tears wet against his neck. They stand like that, together. The tears continue to fall, soaking into their clothes, just as they soak in each others' nearness. The hurt washes away under the deluge of comfort they feel with one another. Their presence, a balm to their wounds: covering, cooling, calming, and healing.
No one moves to interrupt them, letting them bask in the moment, for however fleeting, of hope, of peace, of comfort, and of love.
