"If I could drift into slumber upon the throne of your lap, where your breath would weave lullabies against my temple, I believe the longing of centuries would fade into dust.
I love, I breathe, only by the mercy of your touch. I ache, I tremble, bound by the enchantment of your name- for without you, what is a girl, but a wistful tale never told?
Let the rain come; let it drench us in its silver secrets. We'll just hide under the same blanket, your arms locked around me so tight that even the wind won't know where you end and I begin.
And when the cold lingers too long upon my skin, maybe I'll climb inside your hoodie, tuck myself right in, and make a home there.
Why must you ever leave? Why must the world pull you away, when I have already decided- you belong to me, entirely, always?
You should stay, shouldn't you? Stay right here, where I can find you, touch you, trap you- inside these walls, inside my hands, inside me.
And when the stars rise, will you not seek me first? Will you not throw me over your shoulder, drag me off as if I were no more than your plundered prize?
Your fingers slipping into my sleeves, dragging me against you, your dampened hair tousled into my linen, until my giggles spills like wild roses across the sheets.
But love is a scoundrel, is it not? A rogue who steals me in the dead of night, who cages me within arms too strong to fight, who turns my lips traitor when I vow to pout- only to have me soften, and nuzzle right back where I swore I wouldn't."
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The snow was falling in soft, delicate flurries outside the cafeteria window, blanketing the university grounds in a serene white. The warmth of Aadam's arms around my waist melted away any coldness as I perched on his lap, my legs dangling between his swaying slightly.
His pencil scratched softly against the iPad screen as he worked on something for class, his focus steady yet somehow not ignoring me.
I cradled my mug of hot chocolate, the rich, creamy warmth tantalizing my hands. The marshmallows on top had melted into a frothy layer, but I was too preoccupied with the lively conversation unfolding at the table to sip it.
Cameron, sitting directly across from me, was wolfing down what looked like his second sandwich. Isla sat beside him, sipping on her latte. Freya and George were to their left, bundled in scarves even indoors, laughing softly at Cameron's antics.
