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Interlude (short story)
The air is cool, and a slight breeze gently moves my hair. It is not yet spring, obvious by the chill still lingering, not quite yet ready to surrender to the coming season's warmth and growth. The bare trees are black silhouettes against the sky, illuminated by the full moon. It is the only source of light in the starless sky, and we watch the slideshow of clouds passing in front of it. We move closer together, savoring our embrace. The cloudy sky and dormant forest seem as though they should create a sinister mood, but I view the scene as picturesque and serene. Conversation has ceased by this point, comfortable silence left in its place. Nothing exists but the moon, the clouds, the trees, our intertwined hands. I sigh contentedly and lean my head onto his shoulder. In a sense, it is representative of my trust, of the vulnerability not many people see. I look up at him. Our eyes meet, and our lips soon do the same. I pull away shortly after, not wanting to risk ruining the essence of the moment. As his fingers playfully caress mine, I feel his arm tighten around me.
Expectations forgotten, I want nothing more than this.
