#s.v.

Qué haces con tanto cariño.

Tanto amor.

Tanto deseo.

Tanto gusto.

Al final tú tienes mis escritos, palabras, y versos.

Al final me seguiré muriendo por un beso tuyo, una caricia tuya, o lo que sea.

Al final será tú quien lo decida siempre mi amor.

Kabh khatam hoga yeh sil-sila...

I want him to be taller than me, nothing much just a head taller than me.... I want him to hug me when I'm in need of it..... I want him to look at me... I want him to have short hair, not really-really short but short enough for me to run my hand through his hair..... I want him to breathe me in when I hug him tight when we are waiting for our respective buses......I want him to have stubble.....I want him to have his sleeves folded so I can annoy him by pinching his skin and hair and him to softly yell at me 'mat kara karo waise, lagta hai!' ....I want him and me to have matching wrist-watches....I want him to be okay if I play a song thirteen thousand times...I want him to say 'aur ek baar yeh gana tumne bajaya na toh dekh lena...' but I still listen to it and he sighs and says nothing.... I want him to hold my wrist when we cross the road, qki haanth may toh Mera rumaal aur phone hona hai.....I want him to kiss me and then look around to check whether our neighbours looked, why? because I told him ki 'lets pretend humlog abhi bhi school may hain and mummy ko pata chalne nahi dena hai..'' and he remembers it and does it every time... I want him to know that I want him with all his mess...I simply want him..

"What?"