Tonight I see only you under the pinpricks of light: cold stars, warm lampposts, coupled headlights. You hold my hand, and folded together they seem like old couples meeting again.
We run through the city, laughing, breathing, being. We hide under the bridge, hollowed footsteps overhead, cars like roaring beasts, the stillness and silence like rain about to fall. I wait for you to kiss me. You don't. Not yet.
We walk the streets, but the hands on your watch don't move. Time has no place in our world of warm summer nights, parked in old cars with new friends. Always dreaming, never sleeping.
You are leaving soon. Tomorrow. Life makes our time finite, love make our time infinite. The fountain sprays water like diamonds and we laugh and languish, as hurried as grass reaching for the sun.
We dance through the garden, lay in the grass. I rub my arms. You take off your jacket, drape it around me, pull it tight around my shoulders.
"Stay warm," you whisper, but all I need is you. I can't say this, I won't, not when you are so close and so far, like the tide, roaring and rushing in, then pulling back, that gentle, insistent tug trying to sweep me out to sea.
The things left unsaid of our summer together don't matter to the darkness, because the darkness holds young lovers, softly, gently, sweetly. The same way you hold me.
We walk the streets and the traffic is a symphony, the crowds a river of sweet, cold water, the air thick with some sort of midnight magic only the young can taste.
"Beautiful," you say, and I stare at shoelaces edged in mud.
A collection of wild souls gather at the late night pizza shop. We join them. Together we are like nocturnal zoo animals escaped, free of daylight cages. We belong to the night. Or maybe it belongs to us. Maybe the darkness lets us be young and free.
The smells of baking bread, the smell of him as he opens his car door for me. The light of the car betrays us, forces the clock to move again, but then it is gone, and the car holds its breath as he turns to me. He smiles, and then stops. I wait, and then he leans over, hesitates... and finally kisses me.
With a twist the car rumbles. But even when the sun spreads it's golden fingers, I replay the night again and again, finding that it doesn't disappear.
May you always be young enough to remember, one night with your love is better than a lifetime of days without.
YOU ARE READING
One Night With Your LoveShort Story
A short story for the #MidnightSunMovie contest, about one night with your love. -Hannah Cover art by @warriorofthestars4 Banner art by @Escapethepeace