Thousand Paper Cuts

Twenty-three : constellation of freckles

Mark :

At that point, he couldn't even think of her being with somebody else. Not that he really owned her, but because love is a promise you keep anyway.

"You know", he breathed slowly and leaned in towards her on the bench,
"We should do this often."
"Do what?" She was looking up at the sky.
He wasn't really sure what to say, but the truth was that he just wanted to be with her, amid her strawberry lip gloss scent and warm breaths reminding him of autumn. He just wanted to take her hand, and never let go.
"Just", he finally replied, "I just want us to be together, as long as we're here."
The clouds were gathered like a flock of birds, and a raindrop fell onto his hand, that was holding hers.
She broke into an enchanting smile and it felt like the sky cracked up and the sun rays were feeling warm, even though right now it was about to rain.
She inhaled and spoke,
"Isn't it too treacherous to believe in forever?"
"So you think we won't have any future and that now is the only time we'll ever have? I just don't want to even think about that, Skye. Never."
She squeezed his hand until it hurt, and said,
"I'm not saying we won't have a future, Mark. It's just that forever isn't a real thing, you know? I'm a writer, and in all my writings, I've realised that humans have just developed this hopeful thing about future and forever, as if present doesn't matter. They have all forgotten, terribly forgotten about the true facet of life : present."
He nodded. A little angry or something.
"You think I'll be gone one day", he started, "you think I'll just be a winter romance. But no, I'll give you a forever. I'll find it and give it to you. Only you."
"Alright", she grinned, "but remember that the who I am now will be the who that's always yours at this moment."
He placed his hand on her chin (so soft, fragile), and said,
"I love your eyes. They are magical."
She laughed.
"I love your dimple, Mark, that is deeper than the Atlantic Ocean."
"And I love your hair", he spoke,"You know, the kind of hair you can forever feel bright with."
She touched his forehead, saying,
"I love that scar near your brow. You look cool."
He smiled.
"I'm cooler than Batman, you know? I can raise my both brows."
This got her laughing hard, and in between her laugh and the moment her lips curled back into a half-wry smile, he thought maybe poets are wrong. Stars aren't the only beautiful and magical thing.
Finally, she whispered,
"I love your eyes too. I've always had a fetish for grass green eyes. The kind of grass that does not even need sun's beams."
He looked right into her eyes, saying,
"I love all of you. And looking at you feels like I'm in some sun-drenched warm cafè of California, listening to Stars Fell on Alabama."
"That is such a nice thing, Mark. You and I in California."
"I'll take you", he said, "I promise."
"When?"
"Now", he smiled, "if you say so."
"You're a dork", she replied.
He faced her completely and said,
"Skye, you have to believe me that I can give you everything you want, even it's midnight dance near the shore. I love you."
"I love you too", she ensured him, and he said,
"Read me something good."
She looked up at the sky, and little raindrops fell on her face full of freckles. Her eyes got lost as if she was longing to find a galaxy. Soon enough, she started reciting some poem he'd never heard of,

Till you come back, here I'll stay
Not forever, but everyday
Will you love me back?
Even if just for a while?
Hold me under the stars,near the bay
And walk me to the flowery aisle
Will you send me postcards?
Or sing me to sleep?
Darling, risk me in this trial
Forever and ever, I'm yours to keep

Skye :

Reading an underrated poem to the most beautiful boy and watching his eyes glow at every word was perhaps the moment she wanted to dive right into him.