You & I

ii. The Details

After days and weeks of texting and FaceTiming, he finally started getting closer and closer to this girl. Questions upon questions, endless evenings leading to sleepless nights as they just talked away. Only the stars could amount to the conversations they both shared across to each other. Comfort was an understatement between them.
Love was a word that barely symbolized what they were feeling, after all, words are words, and the actions of caring and smiling and laughing hit home harder than the assortment of phrases exchanged. Even on the brink of sunrise, they both maintained the same energy as if they've been well rested the entire time.  And then it was Valentine's Day.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said smoothly smiling as the FaceTime screen lit up his face.

"Hey, handsome," she replied, smiling with the same enthusiasm.

"Anything happen at school?"

"No, nothing really happened. It was pretty boring, just had activities in choir and chemistry but that's about it."

"That's fun," he said, but he didn't let a second in between from that and what he was about to ask.

"Do you have a Valentine?"

She just looked into the camera and laughed, "No, I don't. I don't talk to anyone but you, silly."

Smiling back, he replied, "will you be mine?"

Even through the FaceTime screen, they both can feel the bright, overcoming and overwhelming feeling of happiness as it washed over both of them like a thundering rainstorm, gentle, yet fierce. If you asked her why him, she could give a list that was as long as the universe could extend. She could say it was his jawline. She could say it was the look his subtle, but powerful, eyes glanced back with long fluttering eyelashes and golden eyes shone back as he peered back into hers. She knew he was strong - physically, mentally, emotionally and willfully. Even if he thought his arms were scrawny, there was never a more comforting safe haven than under his arms. It was the little things he did to just get a smile out of her. It was the jealousy and the wanting of attention. He wanted a clingy person just so he could cling back and just love with the same intent. She could just tell that she was his heart. She could say it was the tone of his voice as he whispered his secrets or if it was him gently saying I love you into her ear. She could say it was the nimble movements in his deep sleep as he quivered his lip as he fell down into his slumber. She could say a lot of things.
But her reason was vague, but strong.

It was him.

You are thinking now. What was his reason? You couldn't possibly think it was as strong as hers, but it was. If not, maybe stronger. He was a fighter. There's not a lot of people he would fight for, but somewhere in the world, there was a girl he would die for. A girl that he would shed his own blood and throw his own life in front of her. A girl that he desperately desired, from day to night as if she was some pharmaceutical drug that was needed to live. Indeed she was a drug. Love can be addicting, but it's the person giving it that receives that addiction. Not anyone could feel this, and he knew that. It was the way her hair would flow from her collar bone, down her soft back. The fleshy plump lips that sat under her cute button nose. It was the perky cheekbones that pierced through her chubby but contoured cheeks. Her eyes, those that could share the warmth of a burning star in the summer. Smooth brown eyes, complimenting her brown hair and light-toned skin. The curves in her body, but the curve that mattered was her smile. The laugh that would slip through her pearly-white teeth made it so worth it for him. She made every breathe used and every word said worth a golden time in his life. Never was there a moment he hesitated his love for her. Never was there a moment he questioned a favor to do for her. If she asked for it, he provided. If she desired his voice, he spoke a thousand words. And even if there was a distance between the two, it never mattered. Because love is an energy. Energy is given from action and actual motives. Movements within words or engagements that made another feel empowered. A feeling that you knew no one knew the same. It was unique, just like her, he would say.

Perfection is real.

Starting with her.