𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4

Timeless| Request

AN: This imagine is based on the Taylor Swift song 'Timeless'. I didn't know the song that well beforehand, so I hope I've interpreted the lyrics right! This imagine is mostly more 'tell' than 'show' but I hope you all enjoy it anyway! 

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You still would've been mine
We would have been timeless
I would've read your love letters every single night
And prayed to God you'd be comin' home all right
And you would've been fine
We would have been timeless
'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this
So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine
We would've been timeless

-Taylor Swift

My shopping bags swing in my arms from my solo shopping trip, I'd needed a break from being inside of the house and Leon didn't feel like coming out today, so I'd left him curled up on the sofa watching some movie from the 80s with a forehead kiss before venturing out to window shop- yet it'd turned into actual shopping. I almost hear Leon's playful voice beside me, teasing me for never being able to resist buying something. My heart warms at the thought, knowing that by now I could even imagine what he'd say and how he'd say it, his voice always seemed to bury itself into my mind, creating a home there that I'd visit whenever I was alone. It was like he was always with me, his love like an energiser that keeps me on my toes. I glance at the shops lining the street until I notice a smaller, older looking antique shop I've never seen before. I don't know why, but my mind tells me to stop, so my steps slow until I'm peering through the window, spotting only a couple of people inside. 

I decide to go in, and immediately once the door closes behind me it's like I've stepped back into the past. The faint scents of dust and time fill my nose as I inhale the various textures and furnishings, the dark hardwood floor creaks as I make my way through the shop, passing a variety of strange trinkets and vintage ticking clocks, there's faded porcelain dolls and old records with dog-eared sleeves, all remnants of the past that's not quite been forgotten. My lips tug up at the sights, a strange nostalgia falls over me as I finally reach the counter, noticing a cardboard box tucked to the side, marked with a sign reading 'Photos. 25 cents each'. My brows knit together, and before I know it I'm setting down my shopping and rummaging through the black and white polaroid's and old fashioned prints. A romantic idea comes to mind- it's something Leon would do- I could buy some of these photos and write messages on the back for him, like little postcards reminding him of how much I love him, or maybe I could find funny photos and scribble jokes. I almost laugh to myself at Leon's imaginary reaction, the way his brows would draw together before that delicious, low chuckle escapes his lips, the way he'd look at me as if seeing me for the first time with those blue eyes...

My fingers gently sift through the photos, the outside world fading away as I immerse myself into the past. The photos are all old and fades, edges yellowed but the emotions within felt long lasting, they're like small windows that peer into moments, lives lived long ago. One photo of a black and white bride from the 1930s catches my eye, her eyes are soft and looking just past the camera, as if staring at her lover as he eagerly watches his wife in equal awe. My breath catches, I can see how much she loves the person she's looking at, and how content she is. I wonder if I sometimes look the same when I'm staring at Leon? When my whole word just stops as I realise that he's mine to cherish, and how lucky I am to have such a man who'd do anything to bring a smile to my face? I place the photo to the side, planning on giving it to Leon with the note 'When will this be us?' written on the back, before moving onto the next photo. 

The next one that captures my attention is of a couple sitting on a porch outside their house, both laughing together with teeth showing, as if they're the happiest people alive. I smile at the sight, memories flashing through my mind of a similar situation; when Leon and I first moved into our own home only a year ago. The whole day had been chaos, it was evening by the time we'd got everything moved in, and we were waiting on takeout to be delivered because neither of us felt like cooking, but Leon had accidentally told the food place the wrong house number, so as we'd stood outside in front of our new home waiting for our dinner with growling stomachs, we'd both watched as the delivery was taken to our elderly neighbours across the street. Leon stood there open mouthed, jaw dropped in shock and embarrassment as his mistake came to realisation, and at the sight of the elated elderly couple receiving a free dinner, neither of us had the heart to ask for the food back. Leon and I turned to each other, and then we'd just burst out laughing, tears flowing as we leaned into each other, gripping as our laughs could be heard miles away. Leon did take me out for fast food after, apologising for his mistake, but I found it to be the perfect first start to our new home. A place where laughter would never fade. 

An overwhelming sense of love and gratefulness takes over me as I pull out my phone, texting Leon a photo of the pictures- mindlessly ruining the surprise- before I add 'I just found these photos inside of an antique shop, aren't they cute? For some reason they mind me of us.' I send the text, and barely a minute later Leon replies, as if he was waiting for me, our magnetic pull strong even when we're apart. 

'They're basically us. I can't wait until you're home, I miss you.'

I stare at the words, warmth flooding through me as I suddenly get the urge to hurry up and get back home to my man. I know that without a doubt, that in every lifetime, we'd always find each other. No matter the time, place or circumstances, even if he was a soldier off to war or if I were a lady to be married off to a duke, our love would endure and blossom. I know it deep in my bones. As if Leon and I are intertwined, it reminds me of the quote from Wuthering Heights, "whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." I scoop up my photos before having one last look around the store, I find some old love letters that remind me of the ones Leon used to write me in the early days of our romance, when he'd be too shy to speak the words out loud. Leon might not be a man of many words, but he always finds ways to show his unyielding love to me, whether it be through notes or thoughtfulness. Even when we first met, when our story began as he shyly muttered the word 'Hello' I'd knew he was a man who'd mean so much more to me than I could ever comprehend. 

I pick up an old romance book too, knowing Leon would like to read it (I sometimes catch him peeking into my books, lips curving at the declarations and bonds between the characters, he's just as much a romantic as I am, but doesn't admit it). Some nights I'd read to him as his head rests on my stomach or thighs, both of us sharing a story with our bodies curled around each other, stealing the love of the characters to give to each other instead. The heroines words would be mine to utter, and Leon would listen with the passion of the love interest, his dazzling eyes shining with pride and admiration as I softly turn the pages. With my armful of treasures, I pay the older woman before setting off home, feeling heavy with the weight of my finds, I was carrying more than just paper and ink, I was holding pieces of other people's love stories, a everlasting promise and proof that they existed, and that they existed together. 

As soon as I get home, the scent of something delicious cooking greets me, along with my boyfriend's cheerful head peeking out of the kitchen, his eyes wide and excited, I swear if he had a tail it'd be wagging. I huff a laugh, barely able to kick off my shoes before Leon rushes to me, scooping me up as he peppers kisses on top of my head. My heart skips a beat, as if his touches were the jolt I'd needed to truly feel alive again, "Hey," Leon softly says, putting me down but standing close near me, "did you have a good time?" 

I nod, smiling as I breathe him in and stare at his handsome face, soaking in the tiniest details which are slowly changing- like the darkening hairs or slight formation of new lines and wrinkles. I couldn't wait to age, only because we'd do it together. "I had the best time, I've got so much to show you." I breathe out, before kneeling on the floor near the coffee table and showing him my finds. Leon gently takes them from me, eyes crinkling at the joy he feels radiating from the pictures, his gaze softens as he also gets reminders of the memories we share together. He turns to me after, reaching out and wrapping an arm around my shoulders before pulling me close to his side. 

"They're like us, timeless. One day we'll have boxes of stuff like this, do you think anyone'll buy our old photos?" He muses, sounding teasing but gentle. I huff a laugh, shrugging just as a timer goes off in the kitchen. 

"I'm not sure, but as long as they exist, it doesn't matter. We'll just make more in our next lives." I murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek before standing up and dragging him to the kitchen, where we'll share a meal and clean up together, living a life of domesticity until the next one arrives.