Seasons

Forever is Composed of Nows

Anntonia's POV:

My team was already asking where I am. I told them that I was just catching up with a fellow delegate before they depart so they wouldn't ask any other questions.

"Aren't you telling them that you're with me?" Michelle asked while fidgeting our intertwined hands. I was sitting on her lap, and my back is resting on her body while we're watching Season 2 of Dickinson.

"Are you telling your team?"

"They will be here in a while. Do you want to meet them?" She softly asked, like she's also testing the waters if I'm alright with meeting the people behind her success.

"Are you sure it's alright for them to see us in this state?"

"What state?" Michelle pretended to sound innocently, but I feel her lips grinning against my shoulder.

"Like... this."

"Like what?"

"What a tease." I rolled my eyes even though she wouldn't see it.

"I'm just asking."

"They will surely ambush you with questions. You can't come up with excuses like we're just friends kind of things."

"Why not?"

"Wow. Too irritating." I hit her hand that was holding my other hand, and she just chuckled at me.

"They wouldn't mind, Anntonia. I'm sure they'll find us cute."

"Alright."

We continued watching the entire season. Fun fact, every time we watch series or movies, I always let Michelle choose what we should watch. Something in her taste makes her extra attractive, not gonna lie.

"What's your favorite poem of Emily Dickinson?" I asked out of nowhere.

"Forever is composed of nows." She immediately responded.

"The title itself sounds interesting."

"Each moment in the past was at one time present when it occurred."

I felt a pang in my chest when she stated those words. I've always admired how her wisdom reflects to how intelligent she is and it never fails to awaken something in me, but now, it felt like she's bringing me to a travel down to her mind as she interprets the poem for me.

It feels so good that I never once felt like I have to catch up on how advanced her mind works. Every word that escapes from her mouth gives me a whole new knowledge.

"That's beautiful."

"Poems written by women will always hold a very special place in my soul."

"I want to write one for you." I unconsciously confessed.

Her hands stopped massaging my arms, so I moved to face her. She was just looking at me like, I don't know. There are too many emotions that I can see in her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Just... surprised."

I smiled at her and held her nape as I softly touched it. She probably adores poetry so much, and I really want to write one for her.

The kind of love she made me experience is worth writing for. Imagine, I used to be the one who settles for what can be only offered. But when she came into my life, she never walked past or behind me; she always made sure that we always meet in the middle, and that's the kind of compositions I would love to make if I had the time and skill to do so.

"Before you come back to the Philippines." I whispered to myself.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. I said Hailee looks pretty."