Lavender and Honey

Original Photo

“What’s that look for?”
“Huh?”
Don’t look away. I swallowed, trying to wedge open the back of my closing throat with my spit.
Dear lord, her voice is lethal. I clenched my jaw, keeping my mouth from hanging open in awe, dumbfound by the creation that sat in front of me.
The wooden bench she sat on with her picture-perfect posture seemed unworthy.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, fluttered her winged eyelashes, dug her gaze so deep in my chest I felt it burn and grinned with pure innocence within a fraction of our time there together.
She was suffocatingly unaware of the longing aroused in every breath that had filled my lungs with poison.
My god she’s temptation with angel wings. I blinked to clear away the foolish desires, covering my face with the red balloon.
I expected the brilliance of divinity to tear me from my humble existence I’d shamelessly give up in an instant just for a chance to watch her shoot bullets into my heart one more time.
Lavender and honey wafted out from another toss of dark locks as she cupped her cheek in her palm.
I contemplated what she’d do if she had heard my heartbeat, thump thump.
My ears grew hot, she was savagely beautiful, soul starving eyes and hair that framed her sculpted face.
The balloon relentlessly stood between us, filling my cheeks with color.
I froze, was she waiting for me to speak?
My legs grew heavy like cement when I remembered the unanswered question she lay with that sweet silky voice.
Cool autumn wind tossed the balloon out of reach, breaking the dam and pushing my thoughts bounding over it with eagerness I couldn’t control.
“You’re so pretty.” Words pass my lips before common sense stitched my mouth shut.
I watched the corners of her eyes crinkle, then her cheeks lift.
Like a robot, my gaze snapped down to clasped hands.
Jesus, I believe you’ve lost one of your angels. Don’t worry, I found her.
“Are you praying? I never knew you were religious.”
“S-Sorry” I stuttered, I shook my head like I had just woke in an unfamiliar place.
“No,” she fit her hand beside mine, “I’ve been begging this whole time to be right.”
I watched her close her eyes, her soft hand in mine. I couldn’t resist rubbing my thumb delicately along hers; gliding over her porcelain skin.
This was real, she was real.
“Leah, you’re gay aren’t you?”
The balloon popped and fell to pieces, my heart stopped.
“Yeah.” I declared with more confidence than I felt capable of, it was as if my words weren’t my own and I was someone else entirely.
My rib cage was on the verge of collapsing but I couldn’t look away, pleading with all mercy that time would keep moving so I could press past this heavy feeling.
She opened her eyes again and smiled at me.

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