—— and i don't wanna be alone

         “just one?” there’s a huff of laughter, little more than an exhalation, as he grins at her. he knows her. he knows himself. one more for the road is never going to be enough, but —— if she says so, if she really believes she’ll be good to go after one more, who is he to say no?

         “alright,” the word is colored with a very distinct awareness, the same awareness shining in his eyes : this hug will pass and then she’ll ask for another one, then another one, and then another one. and he’ll indulge her in every single one. he knows this, but it doesn’t stop him in the slightest as he moves to embrace her.

she’s standing with her back to the counter when the bell chimes and another costumer comes in, rearranging pots and tubes and other such things; she smells like aryuvedic medicine too. she’s about to turn around when he speaks and then she turns around so fast that it’s a miracle she doesn’t get a whiplash. tears spring to her eyes - she furiously tries to blink them away but apparently they’re here to stay. (hopefully she won’t end up looking like a drowned cat.)

glossed lips curl up into a smile as wide as the horizon. “hey you.” one, two, three seconds and then she gets away from the counter and runs towards him, launches herself at him, hugging him tightly. “i missed you.” 

laughter bubbles in his chest. for a moment he thinks to keep up the charade, toss another remark her way and pretend it’s an average tuesday, but the feel of her arms around him chases that thought away in an instant. without a second of hesitation, he’s returning her embrace with equal fervor and holding her tight.

          “i missed you more,” amusement lingers in his voice, even as he pulls away to wipe the tears from her eyes. and it feels corny, it feels cliche, it feels like something out of one of those rom-coms they used to laugh about — but it’s her, and it’s home, so he doesn’t mind when the tears begin to prick his own eyelids. nor does he mind when they well in the corners of his eyes as he smiles down at her. hardly notices it, in fact. they’re strings from the same sentimental thread, it seems. 

             “hey,”   he says it casually, flippant almost, as if he hasn’t spent every waking second of the past twenty-four hours thinking about this moment — this reunion. how many months has it been?  ( too many, far too many. )  it’s taking every ounce of self-restraint to keep him from surging forward and wrapping his arms around her in the tightest embrace.

you are violet !    #EE82EE

your dominant hues are red and blue. you're confident and like showing people new ideas. you play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be.

your saturation level is lower than average - you don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan.

“sure thing,” she said, “so long as you let me freak out first so those feelings are outta my system.” he’s sweet, so she stood on tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “the fact that you have so much faith in me warms my tiny, little heart.”

“you could have all the pillows. i’d just rest my head on you,” rohini winked. “y’know what we should also bring? a change of clothes. like, chances are that there’s gonna be a lot of sun and i’m a sun person in general so i would never, ever, allow myself to miss a chance to just lie back.” a laugh escaped her lips: “that and i’d very much want to go swimming too, kit.”

     “sure thing,” he repeats back. amusement tinges his words while a faint blush tinges his cheeks, particularly on the spot she’d just kissed. “hell, i’ll freak out with you. y’know, for solidarity. not because i’m genuinely freaking out. because lemme tell you, i can totally handle getting stranded on an island without flipping out.”

“six, huh? umm, let’s see: the first thing would be my grimoire. ‘cause you’ll never know when you need it. i would bring a book on how to build a raft in case we need a get-away and the supplies necessary to make the aforementioned raft. that’s three things already. my phone is number four. in flight twenty nine down they used self-made sun panels to charge their shit so maybe we could do that too. food and drinks would be number five. and the sixth? a blanket. just in case the night gets cold.” maybe she put a little too much thought into this, sue her. “so there you have it: my six things. what about you, sugar?”

a little? she put a lot too much thought into this, not that he expected anything less. “if i ever get deserted on an island, i hope it’s with you. you’d probably figure out a way to get off the island the second we get stranded,”  hopefully his chuckling doesn’t detract from his sincerity. 

his arms wrap around her, instinctively, as if embracing rohini shankar is one of those things programmed by nature, no different from breathing. it’s there, in each inhalation, between every exhalation, a confirmation. yes, this is as innate as the acceleration of his heartbeat and the faint flush of his cheeks.

he can’t pinpoint were it exists. perhaps it lies in the depths of his amygdala, hidden with the rest of his emotions, or perhaps it’s embedded in his hippocampus, along with everything else worth remembering. but it’s there. it’s there, and he knows it’s there, and it isn’t forgotten when he pulls her closer. his tone remains nonchalant when he speaks, murmur delivered between his growing grin.