Darkness. It surrounded him everywhere at all times, no matter the time of day or the months of the year. It was frustrating but peaceful all at once. His sensory was usually overloaded by touching or smelling and the occasional taste or maybe the sweet sound of her voice.
His favorite scent was in spring when the air was a perfect mix of dry and wet on his skin and he’d smell rain fresh in the air. It was a savory smell that reminded him of her, and the way she’d describe with vibrancy and precise detail of the beauty of the flowers, the blooming of the cherry blossoms on the tree in his front yard, or maybe how the dew lay perfectly still on the blades of grass in the luminescent morning. She made spring sound so beautiful, he didn’t feel the need to see it himself, because when she talked she made him imagine heaven. The sweet smell of rain in the air is what he lived for.
His favorite touch was his dog’s soft fur on his hands, a downy light texture that was irresistible. She told him his dog was her favorite because it was utterly adorable. Listening to her cooing at his dog and scruffing up the collar sent a feeling to his heart that made it flutter. That was the moment he knew he loved her. She wasn’t pitiful to him, she wasn’t sympathetic to him, she was pure and kind and she enjoyed him. She treated him like a person and not a tragedy. He loved her with all the might and strength he could give to someone like her.
His least favorite sound however, was listening to her describe herself. She sounded so lackluster; so unexcited to be so burdened with a task of describing how she looked.
“I’m not stunning; I’m not some sort of supermodel, Colten. I have brown skin, brown eyes, and black hair. I’m 5”6, 135 pounds. I’m just, I don’t know… average?” She told him, finishing with an uncertain puff of forced laughter.
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m not lying to you. I just don’t think there’s too much to say about how I look. I have a splotchy birthmark on my right arm, and that’s about all that’s special about me.”
They were sitting on his couch covered in a couple blankets and honestly there was nothing he cherished more than this time with her. But he couldn’t stand it right now. He reached out both of his arms and felt around until he reached one of hers, and slid his hands upwards until he reached the smooth curve of her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Just let me. Please, I want to feel what you look like. Can I?”
He could feel her head bob before she mumbled a quiet “Sure.”
He lightly grazed his hands up her neck before reaching her jaw. His fingertips traced lines on her face, trying to commit every soft curve and jagged edge into his memory. Her sharp cheekbones, the perfect slope of her nose, her baby soft forehead, and her eyelashes coated with a thin layer of mascara. He ran his thumbs along her lips slowly; they were coated in a sleek lip gloss that was slightly sticky. A warm feeling was growing in his chest which made him nervous, he never felt like this before with anyone else. But he didn’t want to be with anyone else, no one else could make the earth sound as beautiful and heavenly as her. He rested one hand on her cheek, and let it all pour out.
“Anabella, I wish you would understand that you’re beautiful. You describe the world with so much passion while other people describe it with apathy and hate. They hate the cracks on the sidewalks and wilted flowers in the fall, but you always pick out the best in everything. You pick out the things you don’t like about yourself and see yourself as average but I can’t even imagine a world where that would be true. I love you. God, I love you so much.”
She put a gentle hand onto the one he was resting on her cheek, a tear dripping onto it. He could feel her smile, and he swore it made his heart skip a beat.
“I love you too.”
She leaned into him, and he closed the distance. It was a slow, steady kiss that made him feel a fire. She pulled away and he dropped his hand onto the pile of blankets. There were a ton of thoughts flying through his head, so many feelings and eruptions of elation. His bones were churning and his insides were a puddle.
But when she rested her hand on his he felt calm and at ease, dawning a smile that couldn’t be wiped off.
He just had his first kiss.
And after, he realized his new favorite taste was the hint of cheap strawberry lip gloss she’d left behind.
catherinecrunch 