Kissing in the Rain Under a Picnic Table

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Kissing in the Rain Under a Picnic Table

Status: Finished

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Kissing in the Rain Under a Picnic Table

Miscellaneous by: XxLoveXHateXMexX

Genre: Non-Fiction

Houses:

Miscellaneous by: XxLoveXHateXMexX

Details

Genre: Non-Fiction

Houses:

Summary

A dream of mine, that I want to happen with that special someone more than anything.

Summary

A dream of mine, that I want to happen with that special someone more than anything.

Content

Submitted: July 30, 2012

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Content

Submitted: July 30, 2012

A A A

A A A


Kissing in the Rain Under a Picnic Table

~

It's a regular day, a simple day. Nothing too strange or bizzare. I am walking beside him in the park. Jeans. Jackets. Converse. A pair of skull candy headphones around his neck. The park is still. A few leaves litter the plush green grass. The trees tall, almost touched the light grey sky, that was keeping the sun hidden from view. We are nearing an old wooden picnic table and it begins to rain. We dash for the table, and use it as shelter. The sky rumbles, before cracking a strand of lightening in the distance. I fear thunderstorms. He pulls out his iPod and plugs in the headphones, then takes them from his neck and places them on my head. He turns to a cute love song, and places his arm around me, pulling me closer as I rest my head on his shoulder. Closing my eyes. Nothing but the music fills my ears. Nothing but his cologne fills my nostrils. Despite being wet, all I feel is his arms. He takes his hand under my chin, and turns my head so our eyes meet, we lean in and share a kiss. Soft, warm, kindness, love. Pure bliss. The world stands still. All I my mind captures, is him. The storm ends, the sun peaks out from behind the clouds that covered her before. We crawl out from under the table. Wet to the bone. He takes his headphones back playfully and places them back around his neck. Then, the two of us walk home, in the golden sun light. Water droplets fall from leaves, the grass shines with the light dew, the bench smells of damn oak. The air is still.


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