The Small Blurb I Mentioned
(Hey! So I got some positive feedback and got the confidence to post this little short! If you like it please tell me! Radio silence is often disheartening >~< anyway I hope you enjoy!)
Her soft lips press against mine as the morning creeps in through the curtains, rising us both from the warm embrace of slumber. I look at her with my sleep-addled eyes, and even when under that haze, my breath hitches, and I am left in awe. Hair mussed, face scrunched as the sun beams strike her, covers tossed and crumpled, and she still has the allure and beauty of when I first met her.
âFigured a good morning kiss would help youâ She giggled, her breath ghosting over my lips, tempting me to lean in and steal another. My own mouth upturns into a grin as we stretch and lie on one another, legs wrapped around and our hands intertwined.
âWell, Iâd like another test on your theoryâŚCanât just go on one example now can we?â
She gives me an arched brow, hardly holding back a chuckle âThat a cheap tactic to get another kiss? Weâve had about three nowâ
âHmm, who says three is enough?â I ask while sitting up, adjusting my hold to her waist as she groans in protest, hiding her face in my chest from the ever creeping in morning. âIf I had it my way, Iâd kiss you every second of every dayâ.
âWhile I share the same sentiment, that doesnât mean you can be late for work, now does it?â.
I sigh, nodding my head as I lean against her forehead. âSadly, youâre correct. Odd, thatâs never happened beforeâ.
She gives a fake scoff, and playfully shoves me âIf anything, Iâm more in the correct. Need I remind you of-â
âAh ahâ I interrupt, kissing her again âWe donât mention that. Not unless you like how I try to shush you with my ever increasing need for your mouth on mineâ.
âWere you always such a romantic sap?â
âOnly for you, really. A lovesick idiot mostly.â
She rolls her eyes and flops back to her side of the bed, covering back up as she yawns. âGo to work, you know you can't keep stallingâ
I open my mouth to retort, because technically I COULD, she just wouldnât let me. She tosses a pillow at me before I can do so, and I swallow my pride. Sheâs right, though I wish I didnât have to leave at all.
If being in love annoys my fellow man, then I hope I'm the most obnoxious being they have the displeasure of knowing. I hope my ever loving gaze at my beloved eats at them and brings their blood to an incessant boil. I hope they see my love notes and clench their teeth so hard they chip, and have to have the cheapest dental work done.
If being in love is torturous to them, to even be around, I hope they suffer. For, in my eyes, theyâre too bitter to ever be in such a wondrous thing. To truly be in love, is to know all flaws and wrenches in your plan can still lead you down a path paved with gold and blooming roses.
Roses they donât deserve to cherish and smell, especially if they never helped cultivate and nurture the plant, to watch it grow in a painstaking but beautiful process. Those little mutts couldnât appreciate the pricks of the thorns that help you grow, nor the petals and nectar that soothe the sting when youâve been cut too deep.
Iâm so happy that my beloved is my rose. That she saw a little dud like me, and decided that I too, was worthy of blooming and blossoming beside her.
(-Mommabean, I hope you enjoyed! )