Falling In Love By The End Of The Night

The stars were up that night. He was here by my side, up on the roof where it was difficult to climb often. We were laying on the slope and watching the stars. He was watching the stars. I was watching him. The impeccable line of his side burns grazing the solace of the night air. His face poised and relaxed. Lips half curled.

"Oh my. How beautiful.", he said.

I said "Yes.", looking at him.

They often designate the word 'beauty' to female hood. But I just couldn't help wondering how beautiful a man can be that night. Beautiful hazel eyes staring into the distance. Ruffled hair that he often brushed with his fingers. Careless and breathtaking. He doesn't know I have a fetish for the dark dark skin he owns like a king. He doesn't know I love him. His shirt, half soaked in sweat, emanating an intoxicating smell, which is a mixture of the perfume that he wears and his sweat. I could sniff it all day while day dreaming about him. The sleeves of his shirt are wrapped back up to his elbows. I can't help noticing the veins on his arms calling out to me. "Run your fingers over me", they say silently. Oh no. He doesn't know. I've been drooling over his smile for a while. The sound of his kiddish smile. His husky broken voice as he laughs. The heart he opens up while he does so. I'm in love with that heart.

"Do you know how summer feels like?" I asked him.

He looked into my eyes, confused.

"It feels like home. You feel like home. ", I said.

He smiles. A shy smile that he hates to admit Is a shy smile. Men don't admit it when they're shy, jealous or heartbroken. Women know it when men are shy, jealous or heartbroken. They just need to look into the right pair of eyes. And I did that night. I didn't care if the sky fell on us that night. My world was already upside down. I was in love. I didn't know if he'd love me back. But every time he'd tell me I'm his best friend, he'd look me in the eye.

"Do the stars come back to the same position every night?", he asked.

"We come back to the stars. The sky is too much in love with the stars to let them go."

"How is that?"

I knew what he wanted to hear from me.

"This is where they belong. They belong together. To the stars, the sky doesn't exist. The stars feel like they are floating on their own in nothingness. But anyone who looks from the outside knows that the sky has been holding, protecting and loving the stars secretly."

"Do you love me?", he asked.

I smiled.