Lying on the mattress in the far corner of the white washed walls with a few posters of rock bands, Amy Winehouse and Michael Jackson, gazing intently at the electric and acoustic guitar standing next to eachother on the opposite side of the room. The sun beamed through the window just to the right of the bed, and hit the immaculate surface of the guitar, filling the room with a glow that created an even more surreal mood. After this morning's events; the walk around Salisbury, the coffee they shared in the grounds surrounding the Cathedral, the conversations of music and life, everything felt right. Everything felt better, if tainted a little. She knew that what was happening, couldn't last for more than this day.
She turned her head and caught his crystal clear blue eyes gazing at her as intently as she was at the guitars, the connection was electric, there is no other way to describe it. The feelings were obvious; neither had said it in so many words, but they knew. And how her boyfriend hadn't noticed, I do not know. Thoughts of this moment, this day, her, him, right now, swam wildly through their minds, only calming when their eyes met. The slightest hint of a smile on her face, made his stomach flutter, and smile widen ammensely.
They felt as if they were lying on a mattress of clouds, pillows of candyfloss and wrapped in a duvet of feathers, when in fact they were on a hand-me-down mattress, flat pillows and a standard duvet, but this didnt matter to either of them, they barely had time to notice. All they could see now was eachother.
Hours passed. The day had felt as if it were purposely ending fast do that they would want to stay longer, but she had to leave. Her boyfriend would be home in exactly 1 hour and 37 minutes, according to the laptop that was providing them with the songs of the late, great Amy Winehouse, who they both adored. The laptop then cut out, it was an oddly formed blessing. Even in silence, they felt the same; both in awe of eachother, shocked by their feelings and overwhelmed by their day.
He remembered how she was looking at the guitar, he jumped up, grabbed the guitar, and sang to her. In any other situation, this would've been terribly cheesey and uncomfortable, but he is so talented, she felt as if she had fallen for him, but she felt silly; almost unworthy despite all of his efforts. As his beautiful song ended, they knew she had to leave. He wanted her to stay, and she wanted him to want her to stay. But she had to go.
They held hands for the entire walk from his house, through the city centre and to the bus station, which was risky, but they had to be close. Her bus was already there, which was a disappointment, she was just wishing for any excuse to stay longer, as was he. She stood on her toes and gently placed her arms around his shoulders, he was unsure of whether to give her a polite hug, or hold on tightly as if he was never going to let go. Luckily for both of them, he went with the second option. One last glance and she was on the bus, he waited until the bus drove away, making it even harder for both of them.
And then it was over. Finished. The end.
If only...
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