MUGEN
To Create
.
I feel the warm summer breeze grazing the skin of my cheeks, gently swaying my hair, and slipping through the folds of the yukata I'm wearing. I don't know how long I've been resting, and maybe that's one of the things I love about taking a nap during summer; time seems to stop during them. I breathe in slowly, and deeply, filling my lungs with the scent coming from the trees and their fruits, not long to be ripe, and of some of the flowers decorating the entrance to our cabin, in which you, Moroha and I find ourselves.
I open my eyes, and I can see, in the distance, our usual clothes drying beneath the sun.
I watch you, sitting not far from me, your hair tied into a loose, high ponytail, while wearing that black yukata I gave you a few years ago, with the sleeves tied up as to not dirty it. You probably have already realized I'm awake, yet you still keep on with that habit you've started this summer: to write haikus.
I've noticed these last few days, and with no little delight, the way in which you hold your brush up high, in order to create, delicately, firm and defined traces on the paper.
I hear our daughter talk then, by your side, although I can't really see her behind your body.
"Like this, otōsan?"
Moroha seems to be trying to draw the kanji you've taught her.
"Yes, just like that." You encourage her. She is barely four years old.
I reach out to you, gently touching your back in an act of tenderness and love. Your golden eye finds me from over your shoulder, and a ray of light crosses it, stealing my breath and helping me strengthen my faith in magic.
"How was your nap?" You ask with a sly smile, knowing last night you barely allowed me to sleep.
"Good." I mirror your smile, but mine comes with the sudden rosy shade coloring my cheeks.
I feel how you place your hand on the high part of my thigh, near the hip, in a possessive gesture that with time, has become ours.
"You should do that on the side table." I tell you, caressing your lower back. "If you bent for too long, your back will tire."
"Bah!" You shout in your usual way. "Too much stuff."
"Stuff?" Moroha repeats.
I smile, and so do you.
"Yes, stuff." You say, turning to her. "It's written like this."
You draw her a kanji on the paper she has, then look at me again.
"Have you written something?" I ask, and you nod, slowly. Your gaze turns to the paper you've held in place with the help of some small stones, and then, you start to read:
So subtle is the
Sun up amidst the vast sky
When under your lights.
You look at me again, and I can't help but think how beautiful is your poetry when you are focused, and in how much what you've just read, represents what I feel for you. However, your next words are what disarm me.
"That's what you are to me."
.
A/N
I hope you've enjoyed it.
Kisses,
Anyara.
This text is possible thanks to the translation of: Dezart
