Solitude

15| Night Time

The wind sweeps through the trees.

Your fingers brush through her long hair, following the curve of her spine. Wanda hums dreamingly, shifting closer to your front. Breathing in her scent, you close your eyes. This is all you ever wanted. All you ever need. Wanda turns around in your hold, emerald eyes shining brightly even in the dark. 

"What's on your mind?"

"You." You answer honestly, biting down on your tongue as she visibly takes in the word. "I can't think of anything else. You take up my thoughts, Wanda, and you don't even know it."

She swallows heavily. "That's sweet of you to say. But I can't be that important to fill up your whole pretty head…there must be something else to occupy you."

You shake your head. "Nothing else. No one else."

She looks at you, turning your head from side to side and inspecting your eyes carefully. "Are you drunk?"

"Drunk on you." You reply, squeezing her a bit closer to you. "I don't need anything else to have that effect on me."

"My, my what is happening with you? Did I put something in your food?"

You let out a playful groan. "Don't ask me that. You are the one who cooked dinner."

"Right…but I don't remember anything. That would mean that you are indeed poisoned by me." Wanda says, somehow loving the idea of your teenage behavior around her. "Then I must apologize to you for being the cause of this mess."

You take a deep inhale of her perfume, groaning quietly as the scent clouds your mind. "Rightfully so…you're addicting."

"I'll put that on my list." Wanda giggles, pressing a chaste kiss on your shoulder. "Tell me something."

You lean the side of your head on your hand. "What do you want to hear?"

"I don't know…anything. I just want to hear your voice." She answers as if the words don't show the meaningful reason behind them. "I'll listen to anything you have to say as if it's the most interesting story on earth."

"Let me think...Well during the last few days, I wrote. I draw a bit in my sketchbook. Just the basic stuff to fill the time with something useful while it was raining."

"I thought you didn't write anything yet?"

"Not for my book…but I do write poems too to keep my creativity going. It's beautiful to sit down and just let the words flow through my fingers onto the page."

"Show me that artistic talent." Wanda grins. "You say that you're a famous author but you never told me what you wrote. Maybe I heard from it."

"Mm, I doubt that. But I can show you some poems that I wrote over the last few days. Would you like that?"

Wanda eagerly nods. With the notebook laying on the bedside table - never far out of reach - you flip to the page that you wrote only yesterday. It conveys your current state of mind. Lovesick. Raw. On cloud nine. Wanda crosses her legs, staring down at the page as your finger traces over the ink. 

You struggle to read the words out loud as they stare directly at you. "Maybe I should show you an old one. This could b-"

"No…read me this. I want to hear what goes on in your pretty head during this vacation. Unless it's a hate speech against me."

You chuckle, feeling the nervousness ebb away. "Don't worry, it's nothing like that."

"Then it can't be bad." Wanda replies, clearly not letting go of the topic. "I bet that it's wonderful."