Rosalie, Part II

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another photo based short story for Rosalie.

Submitted: September 29, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 29, 2015




 It was the perfect fall afternoon. Rosalie and I decided to take a stroll through the woods to embrace the season’s change and admire the aesthetic wonders of nature. The crisp, clean air filled our lungs as we trekked uphill beneath amber leaves and rays of sun, darting through the canopy of trees. Her hair blew wildly in the breeze and I took a moment to let the image of her, surrounded by such a magnificent scene, settle in my mind.  I look at the curve of her nose, the fullness of her lips, the smoothness of her skin…The scenic backdrop lays contrast behind her face like she stands at the forefront of a painting.


We picked a spot to set our bags down and have lunch. We pulled our sandwiches out of the brown paper bags we packed them in which made me reminisce to elementary school. I went on to tell her stories about when I was young and all the antics I pulled. It was so pleasant, just me and her, face to face with no distractions. The only dilemma was deciding whether her beauty or the gorgeous landscape should steal my gaze.


After we finished eating, we started back up the mountain. I watched the curves of her body shift up and down with every step. Her calves tensed and shoulders bounced. Slowly but surely, my infatuation came to light and I realized that she was so much more than just a companion. She was a work of art. A women of the earth. Tied to the moon and bound to the land, she was a living personification of Mother Earth. In that moment, I felt ancient. We were nothing more than hunters and gatherers set on survival, steered by primal instincts. I had to have this woman.


We reached the top of the mountain, laid down a comfy blanket andsat astounded by our view. The valleys and slopes laid camouflaged by trees shaded auburn and burnt orange. I began to realize the similarities she shared with the landscape below. I looked upon her curves that mimicked the valleys and peaks of the mountain. Her brown hair draped over her coffee-suede top, glowing in the warm sun. No longer in control, mid-sentence, I cut her words short and stopped them at her lips. I pressed mine into hers. The fire was fueled. As we got more passionate the scenery that once enthralled me disappeared behind her. I was bound by her grasp, lost in her eyes, and tied to her lips. The shackles of love blossomed from the ground like growing roots and interwined around us. We were capivated by each other's embrace. 

Deep in the dense foliage of the forest. High up in the thin mountain air. Rosalie and I became one.


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