Some Lessons Should Never Be LearnedHe was intensely blue eyes. He was improbable laughter at predictable jokes. He was sunlight and moonlight and flowers in bloom.Some Lessons Should Never Be Learned4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She used to laugh at the way he stared, squirming under the spotlight, a bug and a loving microscope, a bright light she was not used to. She'd turn her head away and blink through a curtain of hair.
"Why do you keep staring?" She'd ask.
"You're beautiful," he'd say, and she'd blush or frown or squint.
Later, she would learn to push away the protective shades and
She would learn to see the light as a sun, a star.
She would respond in melted kisses and stare back.
They morphed into one and let their fears fall through the cracks, pushing against sunlight and falling on the grass.
For the first time, with him, the color green wasn't so fearful. The tickling of leaves felt warm.
They learned to marvel at each others' mere existence, the way his footsteps followed hers and her kiss always righted wrongs. In twisting corridors they curled together, sweetnes