A Midsummer Night's Dream

13

THEODORE

I always believed that I would fall in love with blue eyes... Cecilia's blue eyes.

I imagined that I'd marry the girl with bright blue eyes, and our kids would have eyes the colour of the summer sky. I mean it was what I was told my whole life and I knew was bound to happen.

but then I met her... the girl with the brown eyes which captivate me in a way that I cannot explain. Her brown eyes are like the ground in autumn when all the leaves have fallen, they are the colour of the earth from which the flowers bloom from.

"What is it?" Diana asks, suddenly looking towards me with her brows furrowed.

I noticed I was staring at her while thinking of her eyes. I looked away and I could feel my body warming up.

"Is there something on my face?" She asked.

"No... no. It's nothing." I said and closed my notebook, putting the pen in my pocket.

"Will you ever show me what's in that thing? You're always writing something in it." Diana asked as she came over to sit beside me on the edge of the pool.

Diana and I were lounging beside the pool in my backyard. Our pool was significantly smaller than the Monet's but it still served its purpose and I was trying to use it more often since I had recently cleaned it and didn't want my hard work to go to waste.

"It's nothing really. I'm starting a book and was just adding things to it." I responded.

"Oh really? That's cool."

"Yeah... I doubt I'll ever publish it though. It's a lot of time and money."

"You will. I know you will and I'll be reading it so I can finally get the answer to my question." Diana said with a chuckle.

"I did write you something... During the month that you were gone." I admit.

"Oh really, let's see then." Diana said, perking up.

I opened my notebook and held the page open to her to read. I already knew what was written on it. I had know the little poem by heart.

Cerulean dress and
Wide eyes, like a lion.
A raging wave of disobedient hair.
She contains contradictions.

Diana looked up at me after reading it. The look was enough. She didn't need to say anything.
She moved her hand over and held mine. I smiled and closed my eyes, facing up at the sky, letting the light from the sun beam on my face.

I always felt fireworks in my stomach whenever she did things like this. Our sparking relationship was still new to me and I wasn't used to having her. I didn't think I would ever get used to it. We didn't share many moments like this one, besides we've only kissed twice so her holding my hand, willingly, was special.

I placed a hand on her cheek and she melted into it, her soft skin feeling foreign against my calloused hands.

I could recall the last excruciating month I had spent without her. How I used to think of her all the time and recall the kiss we shared on the terrace every night, praying she'd come back. Counting the 30 days. On the day she was supposed to be back, as she had told me, I went up to Monet hill and waited. I waited from sunrise to sunset making prayers that she hadn't forgotten. That she didn't take a direct flight back to America from Paris. I had cried all night once I was sure she wasn't coming back that day. I had lost all hope, that I would ever get her back but then she came back and that alone made me believe in proclivity and souls.

Diana stood up and put on my white cotton shirt. My throat dried at the sight of her in it. I couldn't help but stare at her long legs as I felt blood rush to a certain area in my body.