The Art of Being...

“How’s Steph?”

“Steph is good, the best I’ve been lately,” she replied. “And how’s Will?”

“Good, I’m glad. And, Will is good.”

And this is the part where those genuine smiles come in, for the responses to those questions are rarely as they were.

The only invasion of their solitude was traces of light that crept through the stitches of the soft quilt. Side by side they laid and watched their fingertips brush back and forth as they held up the makeshift tent that sheltered them.
   
He rolled over and let his back hold up the blankets, resting on his elbows, his head above hers. He stared down and their eyes met.

“What?” she said, her face was unsure, but smiling. “What are you looking at?”

“You.”

“Well, yeah, but...why?”

“Because ...” he said smiling. “You’re cute.”

He kissed her cheek.

“...and adorable.”

He kissed her other cheek.

“...and beautiful, and I like looking at pretty things.”

He kissed her lips. They parted and opened their eyes. His were green and darkened with eyeliner. He showed a subtle smile and lightly bit his bottom lip.

“No, you’re pretty.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, you are.  See, I’m on the board of ‘prettiness judges’ and you are not, and we voted yes.” she said. “So you will just have to deal with it.”

“Well, I think that board is corrupt.” he said, laughing.

“I’ll never understand why you hate when your hair curls like that, I think its adorable, you know I do,” she said as she twirled a ringlet of his hair around her finger.

“And I’ll never understand why you think its adorable.”

He brushed his hair behind his ear, breaking the frame around his face.

“It’s not going to stay there, it never does, see its already falling.”

She smiled.

“I know, its futile but it works for the moment, and the moment is what’s important.”

His hair ascended past his chin. He gently shook his head back and forth so the ends danced on her cheeks while he looked down. Her nose crinkled, her eyes squinted, and she pushed his hair back behind his ears.

“That tickles,” she told him.

“Well, yeah...thus the basis of its appeal” he said.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and her lips. He squirmed as she squeezed his side, right by his hip bones. The only place he was ticklish.

“Hey!” he said, surprised. “That tickles.”

“Well, yeah...thus the basis of its appeal,” she said biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Oh, aren’t you clever” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yeah, I try.”

They smiled. She reached up and ran her fingers along the side of his cheek and traced the outline of his lips. He softly smiled and yawned, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Ring..ring...

He let out a agitated sigh, looked out from under the blanket and rolled back onto his side.

Ring...ring...

“Should you get that?” she asked.

“Probably, but that doesn't mean I’m going to,” he said after a long pause.

Ring...ring...ring...

He snuck his fingertips under her back, and she sat up, slightly, making just enough room for his arm to go around her. He curled his arm around and she rested her head on his chest and his fingers played with the back of her hair.

“I can hear your heart beating,” she said.

“Is it going fast?”

She lifted her head and looked up at him.

“I don’t know, it’s going like this.”

She tapped her fingers on his collarbone to the pace of his heart.

“If that's fast, then yes.”

He smiled and yawned again.

“You look so tired,” she said.

“I am so tired.”

And they sunk into each other and drifted away.

It's moments like these that are captivating. It's moments like this that linger in ones memory for days. Those simple moments that replay with every blink of an eye. Where nothing is tainted by stress, or doubt, or heartache, and every part of two broken lives falls into place.  When being alone is ok, as long as it’s being alone together.