FICTION… OR IS IT? ;)
Intoxicated
Claiming a love so raw and unguarded that even the sky slows down to watch.
His POV:
She stepped out into the open downpour, and for a fleeting breath, the entire universe seemed to hold its peace.
The earliest drops found her skin like shattered pieces of silver, trailing slow paths down the slope of her neck before losing themselves to her dress. Her hair, dark and heavy with water, began to contour her face, softening the clean edges of her smile, a smile so unblemished that it seemed to mock the heavy grey of the sky above.
She tipped her head back, letting her eyes close as if surrendering her whole being to the storm. There was an unbothered peace settled on her face, the kind of stillness I had spent a lifetime searching for, and finally found, with her.
Watching her, every rigid, guarded part of me simply began to melt. She had this beautiful power to reduce all my everything into a desperate need to just love her.
The rain cloaked her like a quiet, possessive lover, each droplet capturing the pale light before slipping gracefully over her skin. Her arms drifted outward, palms turned upward to the sky, as though she could gather the downpour in her hands and keep it close forever.
Watching her, a strange, sharp ache of jealousy bloomed in my chest. I envied those mindless drops of water. They moved so freely across her cheeks, traced the sensitive curve of her throat, and vanished into places my eyes could no longer follow, each one holding her in a way I desperately craved to. They hovered on the tips of her eyelashes before falling away, as if they had been satisfied just by resting there for a second.
My mind flashed back to a warmer afternoon today, when she had fallen asleep on my chest, her eyelashes casting long, still shadows in the golden sunlight. I was breathing softly then, terrified to move and break the spell. Now, under a completely different sky, she still held that exact same sacred innocence.
And seeing her now, washed in silver rain, that same consuming devotion rushed back to drown me, heavier and sweeter than before.
The way the drops caressed her collarbone, wrapped around the narrowness of her wrists, and slid off her fingertips made my throat go dry. Every single drop was claiming a piece of her that belonged to me. I just stood there, paralyzed, wishing I could snatch them from her skin and replace every cold drop with the warmth of my own fingers.
In that one moment, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to pull her back into the dry safety of my arms, or step out into the open and fight the storm for every inch of her it dared to touch.
The wet clothes clung to her like a second skin, and left nothing to the imagination, tracing the delicate contours of her body, the slender dip of her waist, the curve of her shoulders, and the length of her spine, each line framed like a living piece of art. Her dupatta, heavy with water, had slipped off one shoulder, weeping with rain as it hung limply against her arm.
A single stray lock of wet hair stuck stubbornly across her lips, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand, completely unaware of how my gaze was devouring her. She wasn’t just caught in the rain, she was drenched in a beauty so raw and unguarded that the sky itself seemed to slow its fall just to look at her.
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I began to move toward her, my steps slow, driven by a pull far stronger than my own willpower. I loved her with a depth that felt almost heavy, our devotion had accumulated over every shared glance, every soft midnight conversation, and every promise we had ever made. The late-night drives where we spoke in whispers, trading our deepest secrets like fragile glass, and her hand was always in mine. Every milestone we had crossed, every quiet tear we had dried in the dark, it all led to this exact second.
The rain struck my shoulders with a cold sting, but I barely registered it, my entire world had narrowed down to her. When I finally closed the distance, close enough for the heat of my presence to break through the chill, she turned. Her wet hair swayed heavily with the movement, spraying fine beads of water into the air.
And then, she looked up and smiled.
It wasn’t a shy curve of the lips, nor was it bold, it was simply hers, soft, deeply knowing, and heavy with a thousand unspoken promises. It disarmed me instantly, slipping past every wall I had ever built and settling deep into the quietest spaces of my soul. Looking at her face, completely drenched by the water, the noise of my entire past just drifted away, leaving nothing but an overwhelming, aching tenderness.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, I reached out and wrapped my arms firmly around her waist, pulling her flush against me. I dragged her close until our chests pressed together, the sudden, intoxicating heat of her body seeping through the freezing, soaked fabric separating our skin. Her eyes widened slightly, a sudden flicker of surprise mixing with a deeper, darker hunger in the depths of her gaze. The rain poured over us in sheets now, blinding and unceasing, but the world outside of our embrace had ceased to exist.
“Shhhh…” I breathed, the whisper low enough to get lost in the downpour.
Her breath hitched, her eyes locking onto mine with a fierce, fragile intensity. In that silence, I lifted my hand, my fingers trembling slightly as I brushed the wet strands of hair away from her forehead. I let my hand linger, my thumb slowly tracing the line of her cheekbone, memorizing the texture of her skin through the cool layer of water.
Slowly, deliberately, I leaned down. My lips brushed against her warm yet rain-washed cheek. I stayed there for a long heartbeat, breathing her in, before shifting to the other side to press another tender, lingering kiss to her opposite cheek, feeling the shiver that ran straight through her body at my touch.
My lips traced a path of pure fire across her skin, worshipping the very breath she drew, wanting nothing more than to dissolve her shivers into our warmth. I moved to the tip of her nose, kissing it softly, and then up to her forehead.
And then, I paused.
Our breaths mingled, hot and shallow in the space between us. Her eyes searched mine, the background noise of the world dissolving into nothing but the sound of the rain. Closing the distance, I pressed my lips to hers.
It was warmth meeting ice, a spark igniting right in the heart of the storm. The kiss was deep, unhurried, and thick with a shared, desperate longing, a silent promise that in the middle of this downpour, she was mine, and I was completely hers.
And for a second, the storm felt just as small and safe as our home. The sky could weep all it wanted to. We were entirely away from the noise now, drowning in a sweetness that belonged only to us.
i may not be able to update in the next week, and i found this really old piece from a long time ago. so, i just posted it. :)
anyways, if you’ve read till here, comment down a fireheart and your thoughts on my piece!
sita | catching fallen stars just to turn them into stories.
/@sitamahalakshmi on medium.
