seven [j.m.k]

epilogue

Everyone was scattered around Carrie's apartment, but the two lovers were outside.

A year before, the girl with the green eyes and the boy with the curls sat huddled against the cement, doing their best to calm one of them down.

Now, they were leaned against the ledge, Looking out across the city and pointing out little hursts of fireworks.

The clock was ticking, the new year upon them.

The shouts of the countdown could be heard from the inside, but the two lovers held each other close to avoid the skin chilling cold.

And when the clock hit 12 their lips pressed together with a force that could only be conjured by love.

So they kissed again.

They kissed for every new years they didn't kiss.

Fifteen kisses in total.

Fifteen giggles.

Fifteen eye flutters.

Their love was written in the stars since the day they were born, and stories of their love would be passed onto their children, who would pass it onto theirs.

They'll take guesses on who'll be the Bobbie to their Josh. The Josh to their Bobbie.

Passed down like folk songs, their love lasts so long.

SEVEN