Swiftly Told Tales (Taking Prompts/ Requests!)

Something About Him - Short Story

I literally just wrote this in an hour. It came really fast, is ill-edited, and also having been written at 12.34 at night (morning??) I lack the judgement to tell if this is shit or not haha. That said, enjoy this randomness! 

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8:57.

Throwing gold from far view where purple started to ascend from thick bushy treetops. And it stretches, like a child to their mother, yearning to sweep fluorescence from the thrashing waves playing with the soft sands. Every kind of footprint lay layered here, washed at night, ready for morning. Half obstructed kid-castles protruding from the beaches expanse, and dogs scattered paws in jagged left and rights in chase of what only the day will know of. That with twisted blankets, covered in sand between two parallel logs with metallic cans left balancing on top.

8:59.

Chilly at her toes, two taped together and red scraps just below her knee. Legs shining, bright and half way from burnt and into being summery tanned. Her long fingers are pressed to the back of his neck, more touch at the curve of his back where shirt is untucked for her exploring pleasure.

"Afraid of a little laughter are you?"

"With you? Never. I wouldn't last a day."

"Maybe when we first met, but now? Now I think someone's a little shy."

"I always laugh with you."

"You do that silent curving lip thing with me."

"Well, lately I see stuff. Stuff that makes me wanna say other stuff."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

9:00.

His skin shimmers when they stutter their pace and the ocean runs up between them. He knots a hold into her wet hair, watches her, open, as she drags his mouth to hers. Slowly.

9:03.

Kissing the winds goodbye, tugged from out of view does the sun wish the sky a quiet goodnight. Flowers awaiting, trees blowing as stars speckle and sparkle from sea to sky and back again.

9:13.

"It's getting everywhere."

"You look cute, let it."

"I have a thing with things and where things shouldn't be."

"I know you do."

"You're laughing!"

Their hands are sturdy palm to palm. Her feet dig into his hips as she keeps him balancing.

"Does it feel like you're flying, Jack?"

"It does, Rose, it feels like I'm soaring."

"I think it's in my mouth now."

Trying to wipe the sand from her face on his dirtied shirt, he strains as they wobble too far to the left. Planking on her sturdy legs, a careful act in acrobatics and trying their mightiest not to let the giggles topple them over.