En Air

1.08am.

1.08 am
The soft black leather of the couch replaces his chest, and the familiar scent lingering in the air that he leaves behind reminds me of a worn old teddy who's threads ache and pull with memories that are too heavy and too numerous to bear. Before I know it my mind is voyaging again, and a blinding flash has pulled my awareness months back, to the golden beams of light and a wafting smell of saltiness on the breeze. All I remember is a deep midnight canvas with stars spilled all over it, and over all that, the main attraction, filled up the page - fireworks, illuminating the love affair that the sands were having with the sea that night, with silver and gold and red. The air smelled so clean, standing on the precipice of that brand new year. You know when things just feel a tiny bit magical? Like there's electricity in every little breeze? Static in every whisper? That's how it felt when everyone was standing high above the maze of streets below watching the sky light up, like heaven had just opened and tipped out all its angels. That's when his eyes met mine. Eyes that could swallow stars, galaxies, and universes. Eyes that could put the deepest oceans to shame. Unlike anything I'd ever seen in the eyes of the boy I left to spend New Year's Eve at home.
Far from the boy I said I loved.
These eyes focused on my every move. They followed my fingers as I pulled a strand of hair off my face. They followed my hand as I put a glass of champagne to my lips. And they followed my footsteps as I walked over to him. 'Happy New Years,' I say to those eyes, and to that effortless air of masculine confidence. 'Happy New Years to you too,' his cheeky grin responds.
The way that he looked at me mirrored the iridescent sky, flashing and sparkling, inside my very soul.