And Then…

There we were. Sitting in a coffee shop. Talking sharing and bonding. Surprisingly I ended up sharing with her a lot of stories; I usually don’t share with strangers. And, it just felt good. I wasn’t feeling naive or embarrassed. It felt comfortable.This meeting was supposed to be a five minute rendezvous under a lamp post for a cigarette and some tea. It turned out to be a good three hours of each other’s company. We spoke of bubbles, fences, fairy lights and evil.

Between conversations, she would give me a mischievous grin and in her husky voice say- “And then?”

“And then there was comfortable silence.” I replied, when she first posed the question.

“But. I don’t like silence.” she said.

“This is nice and comfortable. But okay, let us talk about…”

This happened a few times. After multiple such “And then?”  I decided to mess with her. It was bothering me now, why doesn’t she like silences? They are beautiful, I thought.

“Hmm. And then?” she smiled.

I looked at her and simply smiled. I leaned back on my chair. My knees were touching hers now. There was eye contact, there was silence. Silence of the kind where it was just peaceful and beautiful. There was a mellow, subtle feeling. A feeling that had just started to brew. She giggled, I looked away. We looked at each other and smiled again. This silent moment was more alive than anything that could have ever been. It was the moment where chemistry was created. The moment where my instincts knew that it was the beginning of something different, something misfit.

I moved my chair closer to her. “Hi!”she blushed. I leaned towards her and pushed the locks of hair behind her ear. I gave her a peck on the cheek and winked. She placed her hand on my neck and pulled me closer.

And then…her lips were on mine. They tasted of silent whispers.

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Sayuri - a small flower of Lilly, lover of languages. Advocate of sustainable and safe menstruation, co-founder of 'The Project Amara'. Fond of all the artistic things; flowers, poetry, stars, books and of course, her.

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