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It was a fairytale #5



A week went by and they didn’t talk. Then suddenly one day he messages and she replies, “Yeah, I won’t mind talking to you at all!” She kept speaking so much. She was trying to be calm although, but yet she just felt a lot more comfortable with him now. She asked him about his likes and dislikes and what not, just like a very nosy investigating officer. Oh! But he just didn’t mind. He said, “Please continue asking, my lady.” She loved him to be the epitome of kindness and gentleman likeness. She asked him about his biggest fear, he replied, “Losing myself”; she said, “Be ready to lose yourself then”. She told him she feared darkness. He said “darkness is beautiful my lady, hiding in it everything”. She then told how her relation with him was totally different. She didn’t know what she felt with him but all she wanted to do with him was to star gaze in the depths of sky. She wanted to sit beside him in silence and embrace the presence of moments. He asked her, “Should I honestly tell you what I’d like to do with you.” She happily replied, “Yes please.” He began, “I would hold you in my arms and hug you so tight, would whisper in your ears and kiss you all over, just so much that you won’t be able to breathe.” She was breathless then and then a beautiful stanza she composed in reply. The words mesmerized him. She again realized, it was the writing they were in love with. He had no words. He said that is what you do to me. I love you. She replied, “Ad infinitum”. She said “I’d love to be the umbrella to your rains.” They realized it was simply the moments they had just then. The future was unknown. She said “all I need is time as my only tool and resource to uncover your bare soul.” She told him how she also wished to be with him, getting lost in the woods he loved, lying under the sky she admired, gazing into the darkness they enjoyed and the experiencing the madness in silence surrounding them. She wanted him to be the light to her darkness, for her to be the lap to his head, his shoulder to be her pillow, and their eyes to be the sea in which they both can be lost for all times to come. She said that is who they were – sweet bonds over writing. So, he said “I’ll feel jealous if you ever wrote without me - not even alone.”  


Would the story now remain incomplete forever? ( Only he can answer that) 


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