The 12th Kiss

❝How True is Your Love? ❞

[winner of the one shot contest announced in the end note]

Recap: In summer of 1999, John had brought Metilda to his aunt's empty house. Metilda understood the implication behind this action. John feverishly refused that it is not what she thinks. In the summer of 2015, John brought Metilda to his dead aunt's house.

❝How True is Your Love? ❞

Summer 1999

They sat in John's old room at his aunt's house. By the window, watching the world drift by, the sky pale into maroons, velvety blues. Their legs a tangled mess, their hearts soaring freely as those proud sparrows. Metilda leaned into his chest, breathing deeply, she was half-asleep. There was a content smile on her lips.

John's fingers lingered on her forehead, tucking the stray strands of hair behind her ear. He sighed, his head resting on the cold glass pane.

"Metilda?"

"Mhm," She murmured, snuggling closer to him.

"I don't want to lose you, ever."

She peeked through almost closed eyelids. "You won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shifted slightly, her head firmly pressed above his heart. "Because I love you." It was her confession. She even as she said it causally, her voice barely above a whisper, her breaths steady- the scarlet color of her cheeks gave away her true feelings.

John pulled her closer. "I've lost too many people in my life. At times, I have to remind myself that you'll be there tomorrow, the day after that. Every moment we spend together feels like our last." He held her hand, observing how smaller it was from his, almost like a doll. "My older brother and I, we used to be such good friends. He was my best-friend. But as time moved on, he's become so estranged from me. We barely see each other. I hope that doesn't happen to us. You know, Metilda, I hope that kind of bitterness never enters our hearts."

She gripped his hand, tightly, looking up into his green eyes, she smiled. "It won't happen to us. I promise."

"What if it does?"

She pointed at the sky, where a flock of bright blue jays flew high in the sky. "They're amazing, aren't they? No-one teaches them the way, but they still know it." Light, honey colored eyes met his. "A bird always finds its way home and John, you're my home."

The wind gently caressed their skins, her hair flew haphazardly, nestling against her warm bosom.

"You know when people say its small world,"

He nodded, urging her to go on.

"What they don't realize is that the world isn't a small place. It's their hearts finding the way to one another. Just as birds, we too have that instinct. Just as birds, for whom a place isn't a home, but the birds that fly with them."

"If I drift away." John whispered. "Promise me, you'll find me again."

"I will. Until my very last breath." She smiled. "If I'm ever far away, just sing me a song and I promise I'll come back."

"You will?"

"There's no doubt about it." She nestled comfortably against him. "I love your voice."

"Even my off-key notes."

"Even your off-key notes."

They didn't talk for a while after that. The emotions between them whirled about, the skies slowly turned grey, the stars grew brighter.