I walked along the wall, which seperated the grass from the walk way through the park, right next to the cathedral. It was dark out, even though it was barely five o'clock in the afternoon yet. The grey clouds shadowed the sky, blocking the stars from my sight but also cushioning the air so it was warm enough to walk around without shivering. The orange glow from the artifical lights lit up pools of the world, making it so i can see you behind me, your shadow illuminated for me to see.
I skipped along the wall, jumping down the ledges, heading for one certain place. You know where we are going too, I know you do. I smile, feeling blissful. I jump so my feet land exactly between the two metal bars put in place to stop skateboarders from messing about on the wall, for a split second i was airborn before my feet hit ground. I jumped off the wall at the apropriate time, and walked round, checking to see if we were alone. When i saw no signs of life, i grinned and skipped up the steps, heading for our spot. The place we always go to. Even when it's been raining, that little spot on the floor, under a big glass window, directly under a creepy looking gargoyle. That patch is always dry. Like it was meant for us, like it purposely dries that spot, just waiting for us to go there. Like it just knows. Some how. It knows.
I lean against the wall, my back pressed against the cool stone, and i look around. Scanning a place that by now i just know off by heart. The trees stand out against the sky which seems to have been drawn in charcoal. The branches criss crossing, forming a pattern impossible to descipher. I slip my glasses off and rubbed my eyes. The world always looked better blurred. Colours mixing together, forming one massive picture, no lines definite, nothing clearly defined. Except for you.
Nothing i can see clearly, except for you. I slide down so i am lying under the clouded sky, and i feel you settle down next to me. After scanning the blurry world one last time, i turn to look at the only thing which is clear in this hell claimed earth. You.
You're just lying there...Unlike me you can see everything clear, you can still see the beauty of the world in 20/20 vision, yet you still turn to look at me. Your hair frames your face, glowing almost from the glare of a far off street light. Your eyes, a light uncertain colour with little speckles of brown, like some one came over and splattered brown paint on your eye with a paint brush. I turn more, lying slightly on my side, and i smile as you turn too, sliding your hand around my waist, sliding it under my top so it rested on my hip. I stretch my arm out and lay it on the stone floor, so you can rest your head on it. I know you prefer to sit on a chair, but i have always found peace in sitting and lying on the ground. So you simply accept it. I use my other hand to cup your face, and i stroke along your cheek bone, a small smile gracing my lips. Your hand glides round my waist, still under my top, pulling me closer to you. You kiss me, and i close my eyes, the whole time, smiling to myself. We pull apart, still blissfully close to each other, neither of us feeling the chill of the stone floor or the winter air, it's almost as if we are trapped in our own little world. Like no pain, and hurt can reach us, like not even time can effect us.
You stroke my back with your thumb, and i look at you and smile. It doesn't matter that your hand is on my bare skin, doesn't even matter that your hand is up my top. This action isn't sexual. Isn't meant to be. It's purely emotional, simply skin on skin, as close as two young people in love can be without anything sexual happening.
We lie there, for hours on end. In our own little world, talking, joking, laughing, kissing, smiling. Being there, together. In our little world. Where nothing can touch us, not a soul. Where time stops still, and the birds fall quiet, just to listen to the sound of two people who are in love, and haven't a care in the world. For the moment we see each other, it's like nothing else matters. Not the weather, not time, not death or war or peace or politics. Simply, perfection.