|| 1x Featured ||
[𝟐x 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 🏅]
"Love's First Whisper" is a short comfort read for all those willing to dive into a tale that cuddles you with softness and love, without a hint of sadness. It dives you from a world with sorrow to merely heav...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lost in thought, I gazed up at the ceiling, only to be distracted by the chandelier above. Its sparkle danced across your face, making it difficult to focus on anything except the radiant beauty of your hair.
The problem laid when I tried adjusting my neck to appreciate it better. The light started striking my eyes and, obscured my view.
I moved my neck in different angles- experimenting. But after the failure of my attempts to recapture the same elegance of your hair, I surrendered to comfort and simply turned myself to lay on my side- facing the intricately florally designed headboard.
As I was laying onto your lap, permission granted, I never took the conventional position- head against the headrest and legs stretching out. Hastiness and nervousness caused me to lay on your lap without requesting you to change your sitting place.
How badly I wanted to hold your arms, gently push you against the headboard and take your lips in min—
Tsk. The ornate patterns of the headrest also failed to distract me from the thoughts of returning you, your kiss.
I felt my anticipation escalating with each passing picosecond. The stress in my nerve increased, decoding my tensed heart which desperately wanted to claim your lips.
But, as I leaned into your hand, stroking it, a rush of adrenaline calmed my frayed nerves.
You were my turmoil as well as my peace, my love.
I tried talking, closing my eyes and leaning in your warmth. “Do you realise how tensed I am?”, I asked, mustering up myself to gaze into your eyes.
As soon as our eyes connected, mine lowered, avoiding the eye-contact. I didn't want you to be aware of the feelings you made me experience. Even after years of separation, the effect you had on me was insane.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” You whispered softly causing my Adam's apple to bob down again.
"Not uncomfortable. Rather tensed" I replied, my eyes carefully masking my emotions while I avoided gazing at the radiant beauty glowing above.
“Yeah. There’s a difference between comfort and tension,” you addressed, your words held an attempt to tease.
I shied away, looking anywhere but you.
I was reminded of how I visualised myself showering you with kisses upon seeing you after years. After a long moment of inner debate about my capability of kissing you, I concluded that giving kisses was just a depiction of affection, nothing more, and not a daunting feat.
But, the reality was cruel. Look at me, I wasn't even able to return that one kiss.
"You didn’t give me kisses." I tried to complain, as if I had lavished you with countless ones. I knew your exact response, yet said it anyway, hoping that perhaps, after your kisses, I would muster up the courage to return them all.
