Affection's Facade

When we met.

Elera's First Person POV

"Smile for me?" he asked. There was a certain quality to the way he said it. It wasn't demanding, nor was it arrogant. It wasn't the kind of question that would make me roll my eyes in annoyance. Instead, it was the sort of question that caused my heart to flutter. If it were possible, my cheeks would have turned a shade of pink.

It wasn't so much the words themselves as it was the tenderness in his voice, the warmth of his presence, the way he made me feel. As if I was the only person who mattered, as if I were the center of his universe.

He had just turned twenty. Instead of hosting a lavish birthday party, as would be expected, he had asked for me to accompany him to a lake house. We were young then, still innocent in many ways, unaware that life wasn't something we could control or orchestrate as we pleased. We shared a moment of mutual understanding, a connection that transcended our respective social classes.

He was poor in the freedom, but wealthy in his status while I had nothing but the time to dream of a better life. In that moment, we were both simply human, confronted by the unpredictability and uninvited complexities of life. We were too trusting to realize the significance of that connection. How much it wasn't allowed. Perhaps it was my own naiveté that prevented me from acknowledging it. How foolish we were. As I said—It might've never been him. Rather it was I me who was so easily lost in the moment.

That moment, being his existence in my storyline. He stood there, dressed in swim shorts, his sculpted muscles on full display.

His smile was radiant, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked at me. The sun played on his skin, casting a warm, golden hue while highlighting the small droplets of water that traced a path down his arms. His eyes were the color of molten chocolate, and they sparkled in the raining rays  as he raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to get it to behave.

He was trying to take a picture with the camera again, but I couldn't focus on anything other than him. He was mesmerizing, effortlessly enchanting. I was captivated, bewitched by the way he made me feel. In his presence, time seemed to slow, each moment stretching, becoming an eternity.

The sounds of the lake was muted, the ripples lapping at the shore barely registering in my ears.

The way he looked at me, it was as if he could see straight through to my soul. His gaze was piercing, and I couldn't look away. It was as if he was pulling me towards him, and I was powerless to resist. I felt like I was drowning in the depths of his eyes, and I didn't want to be saved. I wanted to be lost in him forever.

He was the kind of person who stood out in a crowd, not because he demanded attention, but because he exuded a quiet confidence that was impossible to ignore. His smile was like a hidden secret that he chose to share only with me, a slice of paradise that I couldn't help but cherish. My heart raced, and a sigh escaped my lips.

As he moved to take the picture, I noticed the way his fingers grazed the camera, careful and precise, as if each movement was a well-practiced art form.

He leaned closer, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, the subtle scent of drying water and sandalwood that danced around him.

My mind swirled with emotions as I remembered the fleeting intimacy we once shared, a memory that seemed like a lifetime ago. It was a moment that changed everything for me.

At that time, I smiled, but it was a smile laced with the melancholy of our lost moments. He took the picture, capturing a fragment of time that would forever serve as a bittersweet reminder of what could have been, what should have been. He looked at the image, his eyes met mine.