30 Kisses [HyuAi]: 24, 11
These themes take place before Hughes gets married. If you didn't know, now you do. =D Also, they are driving me crazy because there is no happy medium in my writing. It's either too wordy or not enough words. Gr!
24. good night
There are bad nights and there are good nights. Bad nights feel like an eternity of lying still with her eyes closed or lying still and staring at the ceiling, listening to every little sound. Hours fill with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, the creaking of her mattress, the rustling of the curtains in a slight breeze, her own heartbeat, breathing, and busy thoughts. And sometimes, when she’s listening too hard or not listening at all, she hears the desert winds and a rampaging sandstorm, the sound of gunfire echoing somewhere far off.
The worst nights drag her back to Ishvar.
Good nights are dreamless. Good nights are restful.
Unless they are the good nights where his hands glide over her body, where his lips scorch her skin, where his whispered confessions fill her ears, where he wraps her in his warmth and presence. Unless they are the nights he holds her close in his arms and there is utter, complete silence.
These aren't just good nights; they're great nights. Even if she doesn’t always rest.
11. gardenia
He brings her a small, potted gardenia. She almost laughs when she sees it, but he smiles at her so proudly that she can’t. Instead, she raises the small white blossoms to her nose and inhales the heady aroma, hiding her own amusement safely behind the leaves. Later, when he pulls her close for a kiss, the sweet fragrance fills her nostrils, clinging to his clothing.
She never mentions that gardenias are picky plants. Or that they require careful maintenance. Or that she doesn’t have a green thumb at all.
She suspects he already knows.
24. good night
There are bad nights and there are good nights. Bad nights feel like an eternity of lying still with her eyes closed or lying still and staring at the ceiling, listening to every little sound. Hours fill with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, the creaking of her mattress, the rustling of the curtains in a slight breeze, her own heartbeat, breathing, and busy thoughts. And sometimes, when she’s listening too hard or not listening at all, she hears the desert winds and a rampaging sandstorm, the sound of gunfire echoing somewhere far off.
The worst nights drag her back to Ishvar.
Good nights are dreamless. Good nights are restful.
Unless they are the good nights where his hands glide over her body, where his lips scorch her skin, where his whispered confessions fill her ears, where he wraps her in his warmth and presence. Unless they are the nights he holds her close in his arms and there is utter, complete silence.
These aren't just good nights; they're great nights. Even if she doesn’t always rest.
11. gardenia
He brings her a small, potted gardenia. She almost laughs when she sees it, but he smiles at her so proudly that she can’t. Instead, she raises the small white blossoms to her nose and inhales the heady aroma, hiding her own amusement safely behind the leaves. Later, when he pulls her close for a kiss, the sweet fragrance fills her nostrils, clinging to his clothing.
She never mentions that gardenias are picky plants. Or that they require careful maintenance. Or that she doesn’t have a green thumb at all.
She suspects he already knows.