Short Stories

Love

Love is amazing.

Love is baffling.

Love can be an awesome thing.

He watched her as she sat on the couch, silent tears streaming down her face as she watched the same film for what seemed like the hundredth time. She said it was dumb that she cried over some fictional character but she was just so emotional. He found it cute. She was so breathtakingly beautiful that it stole his breath away. She was imperfectly perfect. She was so innocent. She was so nice. He scooted closer to her and reached up to wipe a tear away from her cheek.

Love is false.

Love is honest.

Love can be a chauvinist.

She leaned into him, closing her eyes as he rubbed little circles on her back. She nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck and decided that she was comfortable enough to let her guard down and fall asleep. He looked at her as she snuggled closer to him, fisting his shirt with her small hands. She looked so fragile. He leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he cradled her to his chest.

Love is pain.

Love is delight.

Love can be found at day or night.

As her steady breathing filled the room, he could not resist the urge of running his fingers through her hair. They had been through so much together. He had messed up so many times that he didn't even deserve her anymore. Yet, she stayed. The memories of their multiple fights flashed through his mind. That one time when he told her he didn't know why he was with her sometimes and she said it would be better if she moved out. He honestly thought he would lose her that day.

Love is intense.

Love is gaudy.

Love can be nice or naughty.

He thought of the time when she had been into a huge accident on her way to pick him up from the airport. She was basically dead when they brought her to the hospital but they had managed to make her heart pick up. It seemed like he always brought fatal calamities to her but yet she stayed. She constantly told him not to work himself up because it was not his fault that she got hurt each time. She always told him that it was written in her destiny to get hurt but he never listened. All of this could not have been destiny.

Love is polite.

Love is rude.

Love can be misinterpreted from our childhood.

He thought of the time when he had asked her out. He was so nervous that his hands were sweating. He has always thought he was not good enough for her and the ups and downs they have had to face during their relationship had only proved him right. She was like an angel. Just the mention of her name was enough to make him smile. Just a kiss from her was enough to make him feel better. Just the sound of her voice was enough to calm him down.

Love is faithful.

Love is capricious.

Love can be what makes us anxious.

She was unique in her way. She was always so caught up in being herself that she was oblivious to what effect she had on people. There had been so many times where he had to worry about her because she attracted so much attention. She just spread a good vibe around her and it attracted people to her. She changed people into better human beings. She changed people's life in a good way and he couldn't be more proud to be able to call her his.

Love is blind.

Love is sighted.

Love can be great when perfectly united.

His friends mocked him saying he was whipped and maybe he was. But he didn't care. The smile on her face when he opened the door for her or held her bags while she shopped was worth it. How she would grin and jump in his arms everytime he bought her something, even if it was only a bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear or a box of chocolate, was totally worth it. She was so easy to please. She was always content with what she had.

Love is complex.

Love is simple.

Love can be a great or bad example.

As he watched her snore ligthly, realisation struck him. He was in love. He was in love with her. And he couldn't be more happy about it because it was her. She was the one he wanted to spend all his time with. She was the one he wanted to love and cherish and spoil.

Love is happiness.

Love is infelicitous.

Love is an everchanging status.

He stood up with her still cradled to his chest and carried her to their bedroom. He laid her ever so gently down on the bed and as he reached to push some stray strands of hair from her hair, he murmured:

" I love you. I hope you know that." and just as he was about to turn around and walk away, he heard a faint " I love you too." He left the room with a grin on his face.