Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step.
As she slid off of him, he walked over and picked a few. They were connected by one vine, and in his hands, they looked tiny. Returning to her side, he held it in one hand, and with his other, he took her hand in his.
“The uh, the story behind ‘em is that these two greeks, Daphnis and Chloe were lovers, but they lived far apart and only could see each other while the honeysuckle bloomed. Daphnis asked the god of love if the plant could bloom longer than a season, so they could be together longer.”
As she listened to his words, Charlie chewed on her lip. A small smiled formed at the corner of her mouth; it may not be conventional, but it was more than enough for her. She plucked one of the flowers from his palm, twirling it in her fingers. Inhaling deeply, she looked up at him, placing her free hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down into a gentle kiss.
The contact of their lips made him go still. He had never been kissed before, the thought never crossed his mind growing up. His focus was always staying alongside his brother, getting into shit they shouldn’t get involved with, and being on the run from people they crossed. Being domestic, allowing people to get close to him–This was a whole different ball game. A hand went up and softly touched her elbow. Not the most graceful move, but what else was he supposed to do?
