Then we grew a little and romanticized the time I saw flowers in your hair.
I wake up, and the first thing I realize is I didn't have a nightmare. My body must have been too tired. It's still dark outside, quiet and peaceful. There's little light; the moon casts a dull light into the room.
The next thing I notice is that Aliza has contorted herself into a peculiar pretzel-like position.
She's lying on her back with one hand on the pillow next to her head. It seems pretty standard, but I laugh softly when I look down. Her knees are bend and her legs are crossed. Almost like she sat crossed legged and just fell over and slept.
Her left hand is still resting on my heart, which skips a beat when I notice. My impulse is to retract myself, but then I remember last night. I can touch her now. My arm that she's using as a makeshift pillow is numb.
I pull her right shoulder slowly, trying not to wake her. Her legs unfold, and she turns on her side towards me. Her leg goes over my waist, and she falls into my chest. She doesn't wake up. I turn towards her too and mold myself around her.
I hold her tightly, afraid she might vanish before my eyes. She's a dream but better because I can't dream up someone like her even if I tried. I use to think I deserve a terrible life. I didn't treat people like I should have when I left her.
I was an angry boy when I left. I use to treat my parents like shit, hoping I could go back to her, but they didn't budge; they gave me a home to feel comfortable in. Then I left them, only two years after.
I fucked up pretty bad then, until a few years ago when I started to change my life around; even then, I made loads of mistakes. My most recent one was almost killing me.
I won't go back to that again, and I can't do that to myself or her. I'll spend the rest of my life looking out for the fine lines and making better choices. She'll be my reminder.
I close my eyes again, wanting to savor the moment for as long as I can. I've had a lot of firsts in my life, probably more than you should have had. Waking up to her for the first time will always be burned into my memory. It will always be one of the most memorable events in my life.
***
When I wake up for the second time, the sun is shining through the curtains. The bed is colder than before, but before my mind can wander, she burst through the door with two steaming cups secured in her hands.
"Morning, babe." It's not the same. I swallow hard. I smile up at her as she places the two cups on my bedside table. "C'mere," I growl and pull her to me. Ow shit. It burns through my whole body. She falls half on top of me, filled with laughter.
She rights herself, lying over my body. Her chin rests on her folded arms that are placed on my chest. "Morning, Sunshine." My hand goes to her hair, and she leans her cheek into my palm. "I need to tell you something, but you can't move or freak out." I don't think hiding it any longer will have a good outcome.
Worry cross over her features. She nods once. "I think... I think I'm the one who feels the electricity when we touch." She starts moving as I predicted, but I close my fist over her hair. "Don't move." She stills. "I don't feel overwhelmed by the emotions; I think it's just the physical part. Small zaps, like a pulse."
"That's why I don't feel it because you do. I'm sorry, Harry." She whispers. She sounds full of grieve. "It doesn't matter... I'll take it, I'll carry it for us. You've been doing it your whole life."
"I don't want to hurt you; I know what it feels like." She argues. I shake my head. "I have no idea what it feels like... You have it a lot worse. It'll hurt more if you stop touching me." I explain.
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Flowers In His Hair - H.S
RomanceHe's always been the boy with flowers in his hair. She's always been the one to put it there. A story about a boy who can write songs on a dime and a girl who has a flower for every situation. She's untouchable, until he comes along. "Flowers are t...