The Roof.

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                           I debated between which sound I was more aesthetically attracted too. The sound of the wind under the full moon that hindered the reckless thoughts in my mind, as I was craving him too. Then, suddenly the movement of my chest mimicked a similar sound to an accelerando tempo as we both stared into the same part of the sky that synched with our deep breaths. It was quiet enough that I heard my own heart. I felt a smile on his face that slowly being raised higher like the tidal waves during a calm, full moon. I looked besides me, as he was on my left. I slightly turned my head, carefully enough that he didn't see me moving. I didn't want to disturb his peaceful state of mind. From here, this was the first time where I felt an unfinished staccato beat playing inside of me. He was the pause button to my music piece, he created my heart to skip a beat. The blanket kept my head warm, but the hint of light pink on the surface of my cheeks kept my feelings warmer. Nothing was better than the autumn winds, but nothing was better than him. In a time, and place like this, I wasn't paying attention to the amount of seconds that passed by, nor the amount of stars that shined. Instead, I waited until his hand touched mine. Then, he did without a second thought after what it seems like a shooting star that has passed by. He made the basic color of simple brown eyes attractive when we glanced to each other's eye. His pupils dilated as I saw my own reflection. We were physically close enough, from face to face and lips to lips, that he could hold me close with his hand placed on the back of my head. Then, this way I could hear the tempo of his heart, and guess if its playing an allegro. And so, he did. My chin was slightly on his shoulder. While he held me, I instantly forgot it was about to be winter. I felt somewhat safer than the blanket that tucks me in during my toughest nights. I wasn't sure if it was my piece or his that was expressing a presto tempo. Regardless, I felt happy of this remarkable moment. Nothing mattered, but him tonight.


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