Harlequinne

- poésie -

"Je serai Poéte et toi poésie" you said in butchered French. I opened my eyes to look up at you. You were still twirling my hair. My lips spread into a smile and I lifted my sunglasses. I remember all too well the way the sunlight illuminated your eyes, how bright of a green they were, how pink your lips were. 

"How long did it take you to learn that?" I said teasingly. "Way too long." you said and made me a moustache with a strand of my hair. "Eh bien, je serais plus que content d'être votre poème." I said smoothly. When you furrowed your eyebrows, I clarified by saying "Well, I would be more than glad to be your poem." You smiled your dazzling, lop-sided smile. 

I never get tired of seeing you flash that smile. I never seem to not get a high when you look at me like that. You look at me the way every girl dreams of being looked at. Your eyes tell me that I am your sun, the moon, and all the stars. 

You reached over me to pick up five daisies. When you handed them to me, I smiled and put them in my hair. I told you "I rather have daisies in my hair than diamonds 'round my neck." You cleared your throat and said "I guessed you would like them since they do match your outfit and all." I gave a light trill. My boobs were killing me laying down for so long, like they do. I should really get a breast reduction, but that aside... I lifted my head up off your lap and sat up facing you. You reached beside you and took a sip of your lemon juice. Why do I remember all this with such clarity? I have no clue but I do. I don't know why I love you but I do. 

When I looked out across the meadow of wildflowers, it was breathtaking, but not as breathtaking as you that moment I turned back to look at you to find you already staring at me. I don't know what posessed me, but I grabbed the collar of your shirt with one hand, drew you close, and kissed you. Your lips taste of sunshine, cinnamon, spring, lemons, and all things fresh. You are dizzily and dangerously intoxicating. Your hand reached up to cup my face and you deepened the kiss. 

We hadn't kissed or even seen each other for a month before that day. I don't like using the word kiss that often. I find it so special that just saying the word causes me to feel as if I just spilled a secret. 

When you pulled away, I lingered with my eyes closed for just a moment, breathing in the moment. Every time we touch, it feels like the very first time. I could probably name a couple thousand songs to bring up just how incredibly cliche that was, but it's true.

You looked down and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. "Do you like me?" I suddenly said. You looked up at me with a shocked expression and said "Of course I like you! You're you!" I smirked and said "what's that supposed to mean?"

'I mean, you're funny without trying, you're mostly crazy and sometimes sane," you said, saying each word slowly "you're perfect in an imperfect way, you always speak your mind, you're beautiful... of course I like you." you finished, never once breaking eye contact with me. I felt my cheeks flaming up. Then you added "I love when you blush." which caused me to redden even more. 

You suddenly reached out and touched the tattoo on my left thigh. Every time we touch, I learn something new. The circles you were making started slowing down until you stopped completely and looked up. 

I knew you before I met you. I knew your cheeks would be made of sunshine. I knew rays of light would spill from your lips with your every smile. I knew you. Sometimes you look at me and you ask me what I’m thinking. I smile, and I say “Nothing.” Truly, though, it is something. It’s the most beautiful something I’ve ever known.

"I like you so much Quinne." I blushed and turned away. You chuckled and added "I really do." I looked back at you with a quiet smile. You looked nervous just before you said "Will you be my girlfriend?"

And just like that, my breath hitched, the world stopped. The birds that were flying overhead stopped to look down at us, the ants on the ground beside us, looked at us. At us. That was when the story of us started. A good love story never ends, and God, I pray ours never does. 

~ Quinne ❃