So this is just a little something that sort of came to me and I wrote just for the heck of it. I'm not even really sure what it is. Anyway, I'd love to get your feedback and know what you all think!
Yearning
She stared out the window, unaware of the two lone teardrops rolling down her face. The rain pattered against the windowpane, mimicking her tears, but she took no notice. Her mind was a million miles away, in a different time, a different place.
She imagined his face, seemingly chiseled to perfection, yet possessing a slight flaw here or there if you looked closely enough—the slight hook in his nose, the slightly too bushy eyebrows. She imagined his strong jawline, set with a hint of stubbornness and pride. She imagined his lips, perfectly sculpted, a slight smile upon them, looking ready to be kissed. She imagined his eyes, glinting with mischief and a hint of desire, all the while sucking her in and revealing his innermost secrets.
She thought back to the time in the park, where they had strolled hand in hand and stole a few kisses sitting on a park bench in the middle of the square. She thought back to the time in the pottery painting place, where he had claimed not to be enjoying himself yet his full concentration had been on creating a 'masterpiece.' She thought back to the time in the parking lot, where they had driven off to just to get a few minutes alone away from the world.
She remembered the first time he'd said 'I love you,' how she'd panicked, how she'd not said it in return, how she'd run out of the room. She remembered the first time she said it back, how he'd stared at her in disbelief, how it had felt when he'd kissed her afterwards. She remembered all the times he'd comforted her when she'd felt down, how he'd held her in his arms, how he'd wiped the tears from her eyes.
She fantasized about the future, of getting married, of having children, of growing old together. She fantasized about living together, of cooking, of watching tv, of sharing a bed. She fantasized about making him smile, of making him laugh, of seeing him content, of seeing him happy. She fantasized about loving him, of wanting him, of desiring him, of needing him.
She yearned for his touch, running his hands up and down her arms, gently moving her hair way from her forehead, caressing her face. She yearned to hold his hand, to feel that strength and safety emanating from him, to feel loved and wanted. She yearned to feel his lips against hers, the soft feathery kisses all over her face, the passionate ravaging of her mouth. She yearned to feel that connection again, to stare into his eyes, to feel that swooshy feeling in her stomach when she merely grazed his fingertips.
She stared out the window, unaware of the hint of a smile upon her lips. The sunlight streamed through the windowpane, mimicking the way she felt whenever she thought about him, but she took no notice. Her mind was a million miles away, in a different time, a different place.
