Intimate Moments
After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her.
- Mark Twain.
It's Friday night. This is the one night that dares to separate them. They're almost one now. Never apart. Always seen together.
But not on Friday nights.
She insists that this be the night where she spends some time with her girlfriends. And he doesn't protest, he's afraid that if she spends too much time with him, she'll realise how much he doesn't deserve her, how much better she could do. These tiny stabs of insecurities would eat him up except that he knows that she completely loves him too, and there's no need for thoughts that seem to take over his mind when she's not around.
They're in the common room this night. He imagines the countless stars amongst the clear sky, silent and watchful, perhaps eavesdropping into the happenings of the school. He's sitting with his friends. Joining in with their banter and listening to his best friend's enthusiastic plans for the next week half-heartedly. He's there, but he's not really present.
His mind's on her. As it always is. No shock or surprise there.
He can see her clearly, it's as if she's purposefully sat across from him, giving him a direct view of her. Her hair's wild and unruly, her eyes glint as she laughs lightly at something a friend has said, there's a slight smirk on her face, an adorable half smirk. She's teasing him.
He's staring at her unashamedly now. She's his. She's real, she's life, and she's his.
It's as if she's heard him. She turns around briefly and catches his eye. She smiles at him, and she's beautiful.
He smiles back. Faintly satisfied, he tries to draw his attention back to his friends. But she'll always be there. Yes, she's permanently made a place in his mind.
Intimacy is smiling at one another from across the room.
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