My One Shots

Stupid Young Love

"You are beautiful," were the three magical words he managed to utter as he tried to meet my eyes.

The romantic thing would have been to look straight into my eyes and hold my gaze and then say it.

As it turns out, though, he didn't have the romantic aura to him. Nonetheless, it didn't hold me back from loving this man, despite being a bit of a romantic myself.

Here's the thing: Love mattered more to me than romance ever would, and that was all i could stand to offer.

His eyes traveled up to his own hand which was resting upon my waist. He tightened his grip, and i knew it was because a shiver had just run through him at the realization of the contact. He looked down again, and my gaze would never leave his face. Even when he wasn't here, so close, under the same roof, sharing this relationship, his smiling face would never leave my eyes, and my brain would never stop imagining that shy, blushing face.

I had only ever seen him through pictures, very still, never changing his expression, unlike he was now, which made him infinite times more attractive.

Finally--finally!--he met my gaze, and my heart sank like it was surfing over the waves of a vast ocean all this time, and only now does it fear drowning under the same waves.

Wow.

I mean--wow.

My heart was beating wildly inside me, and i felt like it wasn't one. I felt like my heart has grown its identical selves, all of which are just now having a kind of a musical performance with drums beating somewhere in there. It was like a thousand drums beating inside all of me. Like my body is filled with those countless identical hearts, all of which are now beating drums which i'm feeling in the form of my heartbeats.

It was just his one gaze that was making my insides go crazy, and without my knowing my eyes automatically landed on my rhythmically moving feet. He had that much effect on me. 

"Hey," he said, a concerned look creeping on his face. "Are you okay?" His voice was like freshly extracted honey out of the living, breathing honeybees.

"Huh?" I looked at him, and said his name, to which he had to reply in a 'hm?' "Did you ever... Have you ever fallen in love?"

"No." No hesitation, just plain, outright no? "I've only ever thought i was--in love, i mean--until it turns out... Well, until you realize you never really fall in love."

"What do you--"

"I mean, you only got to rise in love, right?"

"Uh... Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay? I mean, if you're tired or something, we can stop and sit a while? It's not like this is absolutely important," he scoffed.

This being the dance. But, like, it was. This was important. Well, i mean, to me, at least.

I looked at him and said, "Look, Aryan. I wanna dance. I wanna dance with you." I gently swayed to the music, landing onto his arm, like they do on the television or big screen. "Because this is the first time i'm near you, and not just physically. This is the first time your focus is entirely on being with me. This is the first moment of my life where you have nothing to do but be here, and inevitably, with me. This is what i've always wanted. Sure, not exactly like this but it's better than the coldness that's constantly hovering between us. In this moment, we're here--the dance being the only thing in between. At least your mind has these steps to focus on." I sighed. "But..." I stopped and swirled to the music, holding onto his fingertip with my hand. "But... It's okay. You're not mine. You never will be. I get it."