The spring sun is gentle and warm, like her skin, like her fingertips.
He smirks into her mouth as their lips slide,
And as he slightly lifts his lids, he marvels at how the sunrays make her dark hair shine.
She tastes like honey, like strawberries and all the pleasant things.
He does not like sweet things, but the only exception is she.
Her face is red, and he can feel the frantic beating of her heart beneath her chest.
And her shaky hands are a bit hesitant, and her fingers chose to tangle themselves in his hair.
On her lips, he whispered, "It's okay."
And he felt her relax in his embrace.
When they parted, she dreamily sighed, and buried her face in his neck.
His coal-black eyes rested on her, face impassive just like always,
But betrayed by a little upward turn of the lips.
'Ah.' He said.
He agreed with his thoughts,
And realized that this is where he wants to be.
I just need to get this out of my system.
Back to writing. :)
