Chapter 7: The box of assorted chocolates

Our First Fight

I can’t recollect, what did we fight about, but, I do remember the feeling after. All I could think of was her.

Her face- It was unusually sad. I think I hurt her bad. But, I didn’t go back in worried that we might say things which I would regret more.

I slept on the sofa. We didn’t eat.

Next morning I went to her room.

She was wrapped in blanket. She was sleeping on her side with a stance that of a sprint runner. I went closer. Her face was covered with her hair. I laid down next to her and slipped my hand between her hand and her waist. I held her tightly. I think she wanted to smile real bad. I kissed her sweet lips. I was missing more than usual. She smiled, smiled aloud I would say. I think just then, she recalled fighting with me.

“I am not talking to you” turning to the other side.

I pushed away those hair with my nose. She was wearing a short nightdress. Even though I found her sexy in it, my heart would see a cute little girl because, whatever she did, she could never never hide that innocence, that warm open heart of hers. She could never be ooohhh, mysterious! She hated this always; I think she was as adorable as addictive. I took a wisp of air while burring my nose in her back. There was a certain fragrance in that body of her that I needed everyday, to live.

“Go away. I am angry” Telling herself more than me.

“Look at me. Please”

She turned and hugged me tight. I remember us saying ‘I love you’ a few number of times — Till it felt, better left unsaid. An then, she took my arm, placed her head on it, burring her face in my chest, she went back to sleep.

While hunger came back reminding the loss of yesterday’s dinner, this moment was too beautiful to miss.

That Secret Mole

She was wearing a beautiful black dress. We don’t really like to go out. It’s one of those things which brought us together: the love for peace. We could really spend our lives happily if we were the last two people left in the whole world except for a bit of other issues. Anyways! If we could, we would spend our whole lives in the company of the other, just the other. Today when I came back, she opened the door. Somehow she would always ensure reaching before me. I believe, he loved the sight of a perfect room and making the mess of it before I would arrive.

She was standing there wearing a short black dress. It looked soft and smooth, flowing over the beautiful body. If there was wind, her dress would have been flowing, her brown silky straight hair brushed my face as she turned. While I was lost in her presence, she took my hand and led me in. It was dark. There were candles in the living room making everything other than her almost invisible. I noticed a faint music being played in the background. All my senses could just feel her. They way she moved was how I would imagine the music flows through the air. I had never realised how warm and smooth her hands were. I stopped. She turned. Looked into my eyes. I let my bag slip off the shoulder. I didn’t want any baggage of worry, any worldly issues burden me in this moment. I stroked the smooth skin on her hand lightly, moving my hand upwards towards her neck. She tilted her head as if she was grabbing my hand with her chin and her collar bone. I touched the line of her smooth and defined collarbone on the other side. I always wanted to touch them, I don’t know why. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing them. Her fragrance ensnared me. Sliding the other hand up her smooth curved back, I kept rubbing my face my lips from her collarbones and her soft silky lining of her dress right below them. The brush of her silky body and her smooth dress drove me crazy.

I remember picking her up in my arms, with her legs wrapped around my back and taking her to the bed. I remember being wrapped together with her like the petals of a flower. I felt love that day. I found an expression of my love for her as I stroked and kissed every inch of her body. I remember being one with her that first time, when I couldn’t really guess, where she ended and I started. I remember not remembering a thing about my life, this world, or even time. I was hypnotised and consumed in her beauty and my love for her. I didn’t want to feel or know anything else. I wish. When I woke up, her warm body rubbing against mine wrapped inside the blanket, in the cold morning made me want to get closer to her, even more, a little more. Hugging her, I clenched my eyes, hiding my face in her silky hair, wishing that the morning wouldn’t tell the world that I am up.

Overflowing Cup of Love

Have you ever felt being in love with life? Being in love with her, helped me notice the small things in life, enjoy the everyday mundane things. What if everyday felt like a holiday, every morning felt just beautiful, opening my eyes to her face. I would enjoy the breakfast and not remember what I had.

She was like a drug to me. If you see an addict lost in his world, happy, laughing, smiling in ways and at places that didn’t make sense, that’s close to what I had become: lost in our world.

Our lips never rested. How could they? I had already opened the heart to her. We were either pouring our hearts out or kissing each other like animals on national geographic. Only stopping to breathe or just look deep into her eyes, as if the converstation had moved on to them.

I wish everyone in love had an opportunity to have such conversations with their lovers. It’s like going on a travel without any hassles of the booking and planning and packing.

I wanted us to be together forever. I never had inclination to even see any other human being alive, but, now that I had her. I was really happy. I wanted to meet others. I would have talked to the local store owner in the last few days more than I had spoken to my friends in college. I always wanted her to meet my friends, which she never agreed to. Now I want her to meet my parents. I am not sure how would I convince her for that.

Can I enjoy an outing with my friends unless she is around. Why should I have to chose between her and my friends. How can I not tell my parents? I wanted her know where I grew up. I want my mother to meet her. I want to be there she sees her first.

I want her argue with my father on why I should do what I want to do with my life. I want to show her all the places where I went to school. I want my childhood friends to leak a few stories to her.

We have conversations all day and night, I have her things which I never told anyone. But, I want her to find what makes me, me! And how in a few days, she has changed me completely.

This story is a part of the series called Alone. Please read the next chapter here: The mystery !