a saturday night 7:39pm
We spent most of the day together yesterday.
First by satisfying our stomachs with burgers and shakes. A proper 80's date.
"What should we do next."
We settled on watching a movie. Something that involved both of our childhoods. Your hand intertwined with mine or your palm placed over the rips in my jeans.
Our hands found themselves pressed against each other once the sun and air hit them.
"Lets go to target."
The idea wasn't half bad. Simply because of how we wanted to spend more time together. He was dressed in all black. From his laced up chuck Taylor's to the hoodie that found a way to soften his features.
Very pretty.
Your lashes looked thicker that day. Framing your eyes in the most mesmerizing ways. Skin dewy and alive.
He stayed close even though it wasn't the most interesting of places. Just being able to look up at him was enough to want to pull him in. An itchy feeling right in the middle of my hands.
I spoke of the things I loved and he listened with appetite. Leading the way through isles of candles and furniture. We took to admiring wooden structures along with residing love.
Once moving onto the neighboring sections you were held back, a question thrown at you that is answered with a soft smile.
"He asked if we were moving in together."
The idea pulled a huge show of amusement and happiness from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head.
That moment will never fail to let me fall into some sort of giggly bubble. That somehow shifts into a bed of warm daisy petals because of what you said afterwards.
"That's the plan, isn't it."
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