Unintentional

I don't know.

The snow had just begun to fall for the first time that year, since they had met. There isn’t much of anything in the world prettier than an inch of snow swirling in rivulets on the streets of the pretend city. Two-hundred thousand people is nothing of a population when compared to San Diego (the eighth highest-populated city in the US) or New York City (the first).

It was enough, however, to entertain two veterans of true city life, scarred in various ways by the heat of the world after childhood. She took too much responsibility on herself. He found himself feeling responsible for everyone but himself. Both had crashed in the most ultimate implosions, finding solace always at the bottoms of bottles. Both wound up in the right places for those moments.

She traced a figure-eight starting with the oval of his palm, working up to the curve of his wrist and looping back. A sound halfway between a whimper and a sigh escaped his throat. The characters on the screen continued to act crazier and crazier as the movie played itself out like a card game; the win obvious, and players unable to fold.

The scene on the couch began to spell a word that looked like trouble, but felt more like hope. He filled her stomach with butterflies, one concerned look, one understanding smile, one affectionate gesture at a time.

Reviews

[magensby]

Take the journey with these two tortured souls to one simple, short moment of just being. Thnx for the read.