Wrote something short in 30 min, let me know thoughts !
Guernica, 1936, and her dress, the crimson one with the white flower pattern, lay folded atop a nearby crate. Her body was almost bare to me. The threat of being found a distant memory for our young minds at the time. I remember her skin, the way it felt so delicate, unlike my own, and the way her body shivered, nerves and the cold, left subtle ripples in the fat of her stomach.
I remember noticing this, even then I was attentive, and taking her hand. She calmed after that. I think there was a certain awe to it. This person I had known my entire life here in front of me, vulnerable yet open. We had time. I intended to take it, too.
I ran my hand up her arm, feeling each hair pass under my fingers. What I remember clearly were her freckles. When my hand made it to her shoulder, I saw star charts of them as I held her there. My touch made her shiver more, so I moved closer. I wrapped my left arm around her waist as my right sat planted on her shoulder, and I twisted my body so our sides touched. I was still clothed, but even then, I could feel her heat beside me like no warmth I had felt before. My right hand trailed up her neck, we looked each other in the eyes now, our foreheads together. The back of her neck had thicker hair, but my fingers found their way through and came to cup her face from behind her ear.
We sat there, in that space. Not going further. Our breathing slowly steadied and began to synchronise. Neither of us rushed; we just felt the soft heat of each other's breath against our lips. Her eyes were always beautiful. In that moment, I remember the olive hues being swallowed by the black. We memorised each other, and that look, her eyes, I always carried it with me. There was a slight tremor in them as she flicked her attention down to my lips and up again. I closed my eyes, letting myself feel this moment fully as I felt her move forward.
Our lips met.