tea stained newpapers. mileven au.

thirty three.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE:
IN THE WORDS OF A POET.
MIKE'S POV.

there was something extraordinary about the idea of love, to be in love and to fall into love.

they were all different, at least in the writer's head. they elicited a separate spark in someones chest that all connected to one's heart. like strings on a guitar, those heavy threads only contributing to the most beautiful sounds if one only knew how to play them in the first place.

it was as if love was a song, possibly. or maybe it was like words on paper or possibly like paint on a canvas. to each their own in how they themselves found the one true thing people spent majority of their lives trying to figure out.

trying to find.

and if you were to ask him a few years ago what he believed love to be, he probably would have laughed. said that the concept was simply a force not to be reckoned with and that he had never been bothered to be distracted by such a thought.

he would say that his past lovers were nothing special. that they were kind, of course. but the songs their hearts played together were a foul, off key combinations of notes that he hated replaying.

that they were all lustful infections, because that was easier to find.

love was rare, completely and utterly rare.

leave it to the poets, mike always thought, to describe the feeling that would be completely indescribable to any normal human to walk the earth.

but now, now as el laid peacefully in his arms, her cheeks rosy as she nodded her head to something lucas was saying, he knew that love was something worth living for.

it was infinite, a thousand stars and planets morphed into one's soul. no sphere out of place, no minuscule interruptions that could send that galaxy of blissful feelings tumbling away. it was comfortable, completely meant to be.

there was no nerves, no begging or doubts. everything about the concept twisted, turning into itself like a rollercoaster track that always ended up circling back around.

he never wanted to let go. he physically couldn't. his soul was hers, wrapped in golden thin paper with a sparkling white bow on top.

what an elaborate way to say he was in love with her.

made for her.

"you've tried it once too, right mike?" the sarcastic tone laced through his best friend's voice brought him back to reality, those chocolate eyes searching his.

his editor had just gotten back from his night out with maxine mayfield, the pair's hushed whispers and laughter as they walked through the front door signaling to mike and el that they must have had an even better night than expected.

it could be that... or the fact that the red head was currently showering on the other side of their apartment, possibly mindlessly tucking herself into lucas's clothes before poking around his room.

and el didn't think it was possible to convince max to stay here just based off the shear idea to be with lucas.

how silly of her to think he didnt calcuate everything life had put in front of him before rethinking it again.