It was the molding of skin on skin,

wings tucked away as if hidden

It was the flaming up of two bodies,

somehow tied together

in longing

Her hair locks with his

as she leans into the pale body holding her tight,

tight in love,

despite every old argument

despite how young they both were

She smiles

against lips eager to hold hers close

He listens

and that silent air of his
reminds her of their shared history,

of arguments,

of relenting control,

of loneliness,

and she breathes in,

breathes in every single last one of them
with him in her arms.