Close Your Eyes

sixteen; ❝can't always be prepared❞

Aurora's POV

I hear a knock on my door, and I quickly run over to the door to open it up. Rosa is on the other side, and she smiles when she catches my eyes. Like always, she's got this magnificent sense of beauty about her, and I assume that the extra glow surrounding her must be because something positive happened. All I can do is give her a hug before she explodes into more joy and starts rambling on excitedly about something that happened. 

"Put your shoes and stuff on the rug. I don't like it when people track stuff into the house," I tell her before she gets too carried away. 

She rolls her eyes, but hesitantly pulls off her shoes and places them on the brown welcome rug. Instead of a simple step, she jumps around like a rabbit that's looking for a sanctuary.  She starts yelling again, but I motion for her to stop so she can be more clear.

"Guess what?" She screams. 

"What?"

It only takes her a few seconds to explain everything that happened at her house with her family, and it takes her another few seconds to start kissing me as if there's no tomorrow. I pull away with a laugh, and I don't know if I've ever seen her like this. It's a rare but beautiful sight, and I know how much it meant to her to receive the dear acceptance of her family. It's not quite what she expected, with two of her family members walking out on her, but it's still more than enough for her. I feel incredibly happy for her, and proud of her for getting through that overall. 

I recall being so heartbroken when my father left, but she seems to be showing such strength that's rare for anyone. She's worked through so much, and I'm lucky to be here on the other side with her. 

"That's amazing," is all I can say because truthfully, I'm basically speechless. 

She hugs me, and I practically melt from her touch. The familiar butterflies don't take long to appear, and I don't think they'll ever go away. I still feel like I'm in heaven when she touches me like that, with such a purpose and pure love. 

Though we've only been dating for months, I somehow feel as if I've known her for years. It's strange how time works, with such wondrous ways that add to the overall complexity of life. 

"Is your mother home? I'd like to meet her," she asks suddenly. 

I'm genuinely surprised by her question, but I don't mind it. It's normal to be curious, and I already know that my mom would love her. 

"She's at work right now! I think it's some new case that's been keeping her busy! I'd love for both of you to meet each other soon though."

She smiles, and I already can't wait for them to meet. I can already imagine them meeting!

Rosa would turn into the politest person on Earth, and my mom would likely be cracking cheesy jokes and showing her my most embarrassing childhood pictures. In my mind, there are already two that would certainly be proudly displayed my mom: one when I was 5 and found my mom's makeup and gave myself a new look, and the other when I was 7 and was in the school play as a tree. My childhood was so innocent and pure before my dad left, but I might rather leave behind those pictures for the photo books where they'll be hidden away!

"Maybe next time I come over I can meet her. She seems like an amazing women, especially since she raised you."

She's not wrong, and I love her praise and honesty even more. 

She lightly taps my nose in a playful manner, and wraps her arms around my waist as if I'm a stuffed animal. I don't mind it, and I even have to admit that as her hands begin to travel farther down my back, I feel a lot closer to her. Literally and figuratively. 

"What do you want to do?"

I'm too busy staring at her light rose colored lips to even come up with a coherent answer. I think she notices that too, because she asks, "Hello? Are you even listening?" 

I quickly nod my head, but she can still tell that I'm not listening. She rolls her eyes, and then embraces me into a kiss. Her lips meld into mine as if they we were meant to be. I can tell she feels it too, and that's why we urgently head upstairs to my room. With the closed door and empty house, the place is ours and ours only. 

I lock eyes with hers, and I place my right hand hand on her hip; other hand running through her hair. You can't always be prepared for these kinds of moments, but I think that makes it even more special. We spend our delicate night like this, focused on nothing else but each other.