Her.

As the first rays of sun caressed the misty leaves, they walked hand in hand, thinking nothing, doing nothing. Bare-footed on the naked grass, with arms spread out wide enough to engulf the yellow ball of fire.

“Joy”. He remarked. “This is joy”. He whispered to himself.

She spoke nothing. She was just happy to be alongside him. An angelic smile spread across her face, as the dew underneath cushioned her lady-like movements.

‘How majestic she looks’, he mused, as the sun’s golden yellow rays reflected of her face. Her eyes, windows to his soul, spoke of all the good in his world. Those sweet lips of an angel, carved to perfection, told stories only of kindness and compassion. Every single detail, cocooned in itself a pleasant memory washed away by the waves of time. He sighed at her scrumptious little bullet holes of beauty. He longed to smell those golden strands hair bathed in morning light. They had that nostalgic aroma of home.

Maybe those eyes were just a bit too brown. And she had tiny freckles on her cheeks. But he was fine with it. He felt like a wide eyed boy, curiously uncovering a hidden treasure buried under the depths of an ocean. He never knew what he would find, and that was his favourite feeling. That was his favourite place. He realised that after all, it were those imperfections that made her perfect in her own little way.

But a storm was brewing inside him. A familiar one. What if she never found him good enough? After all, the world he lived in was filled with countless instances of forlorn love. What if the tides of life separated their ways? Would his vulnerable heart be able to cope with the fate of losing something so valuable?

Only if she could feel now, what he felt for her, forever. Someday, when everything around him would feel perfect in every imaginable way, he would pour out everything that his heart wrapped up in clovers. Till then he dreamt to be a better man. For her.