Daydreams

Green Yellow White

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The importance of right here, right now 

Flashes of sunlight and he held her hand briefly, running through the fields and teasing her with his smile. It was never enough with him, never enough smiles and never enough laughter. During days like this, she could trick herself into thinking that she could stretch the moments to spread over eternity, get stuck in pieces of a second just holding his laugh in her hands. It was more than that, though. There was more to them than the world that surrounded them in that one moment in the field. Her hair blew around her face, catching currents and riding them to oblivion, and he reached out a hand tentatively to touch. The strands just barely graced his fingers, and despite herself, she smiled.

Daisies and laughter and a lock of chestnut hair, and that's all she ever needed. That's all she'd ever need. She could forget that the clocks hadn't stopped ticking, could forget that they weren't the only people in the world and there wasn't a way for her to escape the empty desk that awaited her on Monday morning. She could just let herself fall into the brilliant smile of his eyes and the whiteness of his laughter.

She tackled him to the ground, and it was like seeing the world from a whole different perspective. Green yellow white and a dash of chestnut. She propped up on elbows and leaned onto him, over him, surrounding herself in him while the seconds were still dragging by.

There was more to them than the field.

There was her hair in his fingers and her toes on his chest, poking and prodding and tickling. There were his lips on her forehead and his tongue in her mouth. There was a smile in his eyes when he looked at her, and the world ended and began again.
Their story was one of amazement and Armageddon, and she wanted nothing more than to sit by his side as the heavens collapsed.

Theirs was a story of the moment. It was a story of little moments, of moments that made up a thousand yesterdays and a million more tomorrows. It didn't have to be a story that lasted a lifetime as long as she could always crawl into the deep recesses of her mind and watch him smile at her.

God, she loved to hear him laugh.

She wanted a lifetime of moments like this, moments in a field of daisies and pollen in her hair while he laughed alongside her and tackled her to the ground. Hell, she just wanted a tomorrow. She wanted a moment that stretched into the distance with no promise other than oblivion.

She wanted a tomorrow of daisy fields.

But she had the moment, this moment, right here, right now, with her in his arms, and so she closed her eyes against the passing seconds and pulled him to her chest, stretching herself and the darkness until oblivion was just behind her eyelids.

Theirs was a story of the moment, and as his chest rose and fell against her, she needed nothing more.