❝But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.❞ -Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
It is a special kind of privilege to wake up beside the one you love. Noah always looks devastatingly handsome in the mornings, but today in particular, there is a radiant glow to him that has my heart aching.
All I can think about when I look at Noah is how beautiful he is. When I look at him, I suddenly understand why Romeo and Juliet allowed themselves tragic deaths, why Jack made Rose lay on the door alone and why Darcy and Elizabeth fought so hard to keep the love they obtained. I understand how it feels to love someone so beautiful I would perish for them.
It seems as though the storm has passed us, as specks of sunlight creep through Noah's curtains. He is still sleeping; soft, shallow breaths escaping his chest. In this quiet moment, I find myself believing in fate.
Almost subconsciously, I run a hand through his hair gently, mesmerized by the soft touch and subtle shine. His eyes slowly open, and I'm struck once again by the exhibition of colours that swim through them. How had he been blessed with eyes that reflect Earth?
"I love it when you look at me like that," he murmurs, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he rests against.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm the answer to a question you have been asking your whole life."
I feel my lips lift into a small smile, utterly captivated by him. "You are. When I'm with you, everything makes sense."
Noah's hand slips into mine, his thumb stroking the back of my hand in a comforting manner. "You're my salvation, Diana. I hope there is never a day where you doubt that."
"Who would have thought I would ever have Noah Jackson wrapped around my finger?"
Noah smirks, running a hand through his hair, "oh and you're not whipped for me? It's a two way street, my love."
I roll my eyes and say jokingly, "My mom taught me to make sure the boy always wants you just a little bit more than you want him. I won't let myself disappoint her."
He chuckles and yawns, stretching a little, "how cruel. But I guess when you're as beautiful as you are, it's only smart to use it to your advantage."
If only he knew the true effect he has on me; I don't think I have ever seen a more heavenly view.
❀ ❀ ❀
I call my mother after I finish washing up. "Hey, mom," I say cheerfully into the phone. "Sorry I couldn't call last night; had no connection."
"I think the radio towers were busted, cause we didn't have any connection, either," my mom replies. "I'm just glad to hear you're okay. Are you still at Noah's?"
"Yeah, we were in the middle of dinner when the electricity went out," I blow a strand of hair out of my face. "I'll be home tonight. Love you."
"Love you too, sweetie," my mother sings. "Give Rachel my thanks. See you."
With that we hang up, and I emerge from the bathroom. I find Noah waiting for me in the living room, eyes on the TV about last night's storm. Like we had thought, the radio towers had experienced interference due to the storm and the main highways had been closed off, but everything is back up and running now.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Falling in Love
Ficção Adolescente❝I never used to believe in soulmates, but now I find myself questioning every thought I once had about love. It was almost as though love was too weak a word for what I felt for him, that perhaps soulmate is indeed the correct term. Perhaps every s...
