Nature's Prudence // {McLennon}

Your Auroric Beauty

The most beautiful people we've ever known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.

~ Elisabeth Kübler - Ross

✒ John :

I couldn't stop staring. I don't know what overcame me, or how I lost all the self-discipline I've worked so hard on manifesting.

Paul and I have been sitting in my backyard for a while. He was laid down on a hammock, staring at the sky with a hypnotised smile. He was incredibly happy, and the fact that I was the source of all of that made me bubbly.

We went up to my room a few hours ago, and I had given him some spare sleep wear. An oversized gray hoodie, and some black sweatpants. They were quite simple, and you cannot really imagine any heightened beauty upon dressing up like that. Paul, however, still managed to look like an absolute God.

His black hair was messy, and I could see a few curls kiss the outline of his face. He held the pyjama pile as a blush embosomed his cheeks. He muttered a shy question, asking for the bathroom so he could change privately. I led him there and then went back to my room, putting my glasses on, along with a yellow robe. I stared around and shook my head in bafflement at the amount of difference when it comes to sight without glasses and then with. I really was utterly blind. Everything seemed prettier with the glasses on and less grainy, very outlined and intricately detailed.

I slipped some flippers on and then stomped downstairs, catching a glimpse of Mimi as she sat with her glasses placed on the bridge of her nose, staring down at a newspaper she'd read a million times now.

"What exactly is so special about that paper, Mimi?" I asked, opening the kitchen door and then grabbing a pot from the kitchen sink and filling it up with water. Audrey Hepburn was singing beautifully out of the radio on the red kitchen table, her placidity making me smile in awe.

The creamy walls were decorated with cherry decals, and the scent that seemed to permanently latch onto the room was one of the many reasons as to why I admired my childhood home. So many memories were carved out and crafted in here. If it weren't for that fact, I would have moved out to a more secluded area long ago.

As I set two cups down on the sink and started preparing some hot chocolate, I heard faint footsteps from outside. I peaked my head out a bit, two cups still in hand and let confusion swarm around my eyes. My curiosity turned into shock very soon. A flustered Paul trodded down, locking eyes with me the moment I approached his sight. He smiled tenderly and I smiled back, not knowing what to say. I couldn't stop staring.

Soon enough, he entered the kitchen and stared at the cups in my hands appreciatively. I wished with all my heart and soul that I could get lost in those hazel-green eyes of his; that I could unfurl the secrets sleeping within those specks of yellow. I hoped to explore all of the stories and flashes of memories that were intertwined with the his irises. We barely knew each other, how was this even realistic? How do I feel so much for the boy I'm staring at when it's only been a few days? I had always been indifferent at the idea of loving and being loved. I'd never dated because of that, because I didn't know how to love and only ever felt loved by my aunt and mother.

'I didn't know how to love,'

I keep telling myself that, when I know for a fact that loving is in every human's nature. It is found inside of us all, and in everlasting amounts. I do know how to love, but how can you love when you don't have a person to perform your love to? A mean of release?