[PxP] Patrick's POV. Bold and beautiful. A powerful enigma with overwhelming influence. Exciting yet sad in a way that is hidden even to itself. The shaking proof that life is strictly great and wi...
/Okay./ and I did.
Shining bright was the sun, beating down on us in this small town far from anywhere I'd care to be. Shadows danced against the shimmering asphalt in an attempt to keep up with their creators and I could hear the fat drops of sweat fall from his forehead to the ground with a resounding 'sploosh'. His steps were longer and faster than my own; they were almost a metronome, ticking and tocking a strange meter. His face was filled with a content smile that I had not seen for a good number of days and this seemed to me to be a sign for the better.
You're staring. he said, stopping.
/Really?/ I replied, keeping my slow even steps.
Okay. I'll stop. Still walking.
He chuckled and jogged the few short feet between us. No. It's okay.
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors.
My fingers traced the warm outlines of the sun in the vast distance, the colors melding into one wild emotion underneath my tips. I can feel him smiling from behind me. He's a calm Indian chief taking in the beauty of his land, sitting content and happy at the sight. He doesn't think I can tell, but I know he's watching me.
Really? he asks eagerly. I chuckle.
I turned and laid beside him in the cool green grass. I could see clouds milling in from the lonely west with a dark frown and a sad song. He didn't notice, though. He was a fool with a wild grin but I couldn't seem to hate it. It looks like a thunderstorm.
You're right. he stated, standing. He looked down to me and held out his hand.
I took it.
I'm holding on to something and I do not know why.
You're fine. he assured. I nodded. He dropped my hand and turned his back on me, his eyes following the mass of storm that had made it's home in the sky.
I hated thunderstorms.
I love thunder. he said, keeping his eyes on the sky.
Why? I asked, mild distaste covering me in one smooth wave. He laughed.
It reminds me of you.... Me? I know he could feel my questions. None were spoken nor could he see the ones that had made a home on my face, but he could feel them. Bold and beautiful. A powerful enigma with overwhelming influence. Exciting yet sad in a way that is hidden even to itself. The shaking proof that life is strictly great and wildly aesthetic. And while it means so much, it all comes down to one thing.
He pulled my hand into a laced embrace. Pure love.
Somewhere along the line, my voice had hitched a ride to Long-Lost Land, leaving me empty. Skipping beats and replacing them with a dull ache, my heart was trying to force it's way from my chest. My mind was dry of thought and my skin replaced it's nerves with cold pins.
Pete... my mouth managed but a calloused fingertip stopped any further movement.
He leaned in close. Nose against nose and breath against breath.
You're my thunder.
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder.