Just as the night before, and the night before that, there had been nothing else besides the waves breaking upon the shore. The rolling of the water had to be the most constant thing on earth, but as they met the land, for the longest moment, they were still. Had this been all there was, Hunter knew he would have been content, taking this as life, and been happy. There was nothing he would have missed, nothing he would have longed for, and there would certainly have been no regrets. Coming to the islands had been the best thing he had ever done, life back home was heavy, and he was had been done carrying it. Just like everyone else who had ever, and would ever again, go on holiday, the young, dark haired male had thought each and every moment that he could just stay there. Forever. Time could stop and this second, this snap shot of life is where he would be more than happy to stay.
Wriggling his fingers, sinking them into the still damp sand he had felt the small grains consume them, almost holding him there just at the moment he had been about to find his feet. Call it a night and head back to the cabin.
Everything there had been so rich, and there hadn’t been a thing Hunter had missed, though at that very second his world seemed to have come to a complete stop. Mainly because of just how ridiculous the sight before him had to have been, but also because something inside him seemed to just explode. If he had thought he had been living in colour before, the male had sorely been wrong. Life until this moment had been nothing more than a black and white movie and right before his very eyes, the future had been discovered.
Boots, leather jacket, unforgiving blue jeans and hair with so much golden body it had been almost luminescent in the night, the broad shouldered male had kicked his way through the shallow, evening waves. Breaking their tranquil moment of silence with black combat boots; buckles and all. How odd was it? It had to be near the heat of hell out and this guy looked as if he was off to make some sort of baddass movie; motor bike included. Not ten meters from Hunter, the tall male had came to a stop, heart towards the ocean as his hands dug roughly into coat pockets, the left fishing around for something before producing what looked like a cigarette. It was comfortable between long fingers, and it lingered their like home for the longest of moments, long enough for hunter’s breath to catch.
From his toes all the way to the tips of his fingers, Hunter had felt something pulling him towards the other, towards the tall frame with no face, nothing had ever felt so much more like a Disney movie moment in his whole life. He wasn’t a Disney sort of guy, he didn’t catch real feelings … and he didn’t feel connections. Before him the figure shifted, and without knowing his vision had slipped away, Hunter had been right back on him. There was a small turn, the sand had shifted beneath his weight, and the rise and fall of his chest was then visible to the dark haired male still sitting in the sand. It had been in that second that their eyes had met, and the feeling that Hunter had gotten deep within his gut hadn’t been butterflies, or something sweet and wonderful. It had been hard and strong. A simple realization had hit him with the power of a truck. This was his person.
YOU ARE READING
Snapshot.
Romantizm"There will never be a moment where you will not have all of my love, and all of me, will be all of you." For the longest time, these few words had never failed to make everything better, but as a lost, lonely Hunter whispered them to himself in the...
