The night that never ended.

He paced back and forth and back, and she stayed curled in bed watching him talk about music with a passion only he could. She added a few comments here and there but she didn't really speak out the lines in her head for he was so good at what he said anyway. Every few minutes he'd look over, look into her eyes and that was his cue to walk over and kiss her. At times when he want too intensely drowned in his stream of thoughts, she said, 'Baby?' and held out her arms and he never made her wait then. He poured them drinks and she smiled as they got high and higher. It never managed to hit him enough, but just with one shot she was done for. He thought it was the alcohol. She knew it was his eyes.

She woke him up with soft kisses that smelt of her and his lips responded all too eagerly. They lay in bed together, tracing nothings on each other's skins knowing not a language to speak out what they felt or wanted to say. They settled for the three words which were to express what they needed to say but didn't quite come close.

He skimmed her off her clothes ever so gently and with such ease, she found it futile to even dress, except she liked him fumbling around a bit or grinning like a fool when he got it right in milliseconds. She got him out of his shirt for the sheer pleasure of looking at his collarbones and then against his skin, she never shivered. The way he held her, he'd never let her shiver.

She dressed and tried to get up only to be pulled back into the bed and under covers again. He lit a cigarette and another, and lit hers first. They burnt a lot of things around except each other. That they were fuck careful about. He held her like crystal, aware of how fragile she was and how bright her shine. She held him like an explosive, knowing how very dangerous he was and how prone to blast.

Their fingers intertwined and the two hands fit beautifully. Like every other part of them. She tickled him and he flinched every time, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle none other had seen for he'd not been tickled all over by anyone else. He hugged her from behind and she told him what an angular body he had for she fit into him at every angle; never before had she slept so well.

He cursed her capacity every night for sleeping off so soon but he never could wake her up harshly. She half-expected to be jerked awake but she never was.. Only kisses greeted her as and when he did succeed in breaking her blissful sleep. She blamed him for making it so easy to sleep for someone who'd grown up an insomniac. He cribbed only half-heartedly for he loved curling up next to her as well.

They ate because they needed to else even that wouldn't have torn them apart; but that was the only reason they got out of bed, at times. They made pillow talk seem pointless and giggled over random shit instead. They pretended to watch movies and other things but never made it beyond thirty minutes of anything. The person beside them was way more tempting than whatever played on the screen.

Music played but not incessantly. He sang to her and she completed his breaths in her head for her voice couldn't ever match his. They tried to bite each other as much as they wanted but neither could ever fully get themselves to scar the other. Showers were few and far spaced out as well. They woke up drenched in each other and went to bed that way, smelling and tasting the same and yet fresh as mint.

They dressed and fed each other.. Both being each other's firsts in so many ways despite having done this before. They both had shiny happy fits of rage and then they had moments when even air seemed like an unneeded accessory. She tried to fight him only to be pinned down every single time. She tried to break free only to be pulled further back in.

He stuck out his tongue a little too much; brushed their noses across each other; played with her cheeks and kissed her eyes. She defeated him in the eye game a fifth time over and promised to continue winning this always. He went with her to movies he didn't even feign the slightest interest in and let her buy him books he didn't much want to read. She roamed with him, the shady, sneaky streets of the city, never wincing for she knew no harm could ever come her way as long as she was with him.

They rode and she felt like she was riding the wind.. Swift as the summer breeze yet cold as the winter chills. He drove toward nothing at an acceleration so high her hair flew all over and they still found the way for they were together. He dived and swerved, never missing an angle, her arms wrapped around him, clinging not for fear but for the warmth he brought her. Her sun.

They dived into water together and swam like the two lost souls that they are only to find each other in that fish bowl. She watched him run from a distance, not knowing when she'd see something as satisfying again. He watched her struggle with her clothes which refused to cover her in water, wondering if he should even help in the endeavour to stay dressed. They got high by the beach, salt in their mouths yet each other on their lips.

They travelled together and all the while he let his lap be her pillow for which she was grateful. She kissed his arm, his hand, his neck, basically anything she could lay her hands on. He returned the favour just with a better radius. They made each other look like rape victims and never apologised. They ignored the world outside and made themselves a haven of their own where nothing and nobody existed but family.

She inked him with her initial on his back and then made it seem like a million other things knowing all along the one thing she wanted it to mean. He tried bruising her but she was so soft and easy to hurt, he found himself holding his urges back. They refused to buy what they'd both wanted for a long time as neither wanted to have it before the other. She bought him silly presents and he didn't throw them off as a waste of space but kind of smiled. He told her he owed her three things still, not knowing all she ever would want would be him.

He promised to always love her. She agreed to always love him more. They fought this war endlessly, never getting a clear winner. He wiped off her tears and let her rage take control of her just that once. She let him turn her face red, not hating him for it somehow despite getting hurt beyond measure. They made up, always. No words needed, their bodies understood each other too well.

They said goodbye. She didn't like the tears she saw in his eyes and stayed strong for him. He didn't see her weep and sob as soon as she turned her back. She never saw his eyes as she finally walked away. He never let her go out of his sight until metal engulfed her. She cried like a kid every step of her journey, unknowing when they'd ever be able to snatch time from life like this again. He lit one cigarette after the other knowing he has to see her again. They fell asleep and made way into each other's dreams every single time for seconds or minutes or more. They couldn't find a single thing which didn't remind them of their soulmate. She woke up to his voice in the middle of the night and felt elated to be able to hear him still. He heard her rant about her sucky day, trying to accept that she wasn't just a phone call away. She slept off finally, thinking she'd sleep at peace now for the worst day was over.

She woke up on an empty bed and a lonely wrist for wearing his watch suddenly became too hard, only to find that the worst was not when she said goodbye. The worst was when she dealt with his absence, alone. The worst was when she didn't find him next to her and had to accept this reality right after having a million face flashes.

He took the easy way out and didn't wake up at all. He knew long back that illusions are way better than real life. He stayed in his dreamland with his dreamgirl, never regretting for a minute of the life he missed for as long as his dreams had her.