It was Matt's silence that spoke louder than words could. There, between a wooden fence and the man that lingered to her thoughs late at night, but still worked early hours in her mind as she woke up. Kate's body felt a little stiff as she realized her shoulders were tense, her breath held as if her instinct told her she ought she to brace herself for something unknown.
Matt was silent, his brown eyes as gentle as always. Staring, as if he could see straight into the face of that which hid in broad daylight. Maybe he could. Matt had a way of understanding things, like he could sometimes spot those threads of that tapestry Father Lantom had spoken about. His hand came to her cheek, warm. Kate became aware of it. At that very moment, one of those threads was being sewn before her very eyes.
She could smell it in his palm, the same grass she felt under her feet as Kate curled her toes. One of Kate's hands came to his chest, as if they were getting ready to dance, Elton John singing to them in a loop. Reminding Kate of home, letting her see New York in the way only Matt could. He had quoted the words for a reason, his thoughts having wandered there.
I thank the lord there's people out there like you.
Was this actually happening? One of the donkeys nibbled the back of her head, which only encouraged her to let out a shy chuckle as she pushed, whoever that was, out of the way. Again, Kate could breath, but her heart was trotting like a free stallion.
It was those eyes. Matt was shielding the sun, which shone like a halo above his head. And his eyes, they were as gentle and as full as love as they always were.
"Matt..."
Even with a chorus of cicadas singing their own song and with the donkeys stomping their feet and braying, Kate couldn't think of anything that made her melt as much as that simple gesture did it. Matt, holding her chin, silently encouraged her to tilt her head up, her eyes shutting slowly as she closed her gapped lips. Kate welcomed the kiss, cocking her head as her brain tried its hardest to process what was happening.
This is happening,
It is really, actually happening.
Matt's chin, his cheek, it scratched her in a deluightful way with his stubble, the corners of Kate's lips pulling into a soft smile as she cupped Matt's cheek in response. She kissed him softly at first, little by little allowing herself to grow more enthusiastic as the hand on his chest moved down to his hip.
She kissed Matt, eager to let him know that his lips tasted of little, ordinary miracles.
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Matt was silent, his brown eyes as gentle as always. Staring, as if he could see straight into the face of that which hid in broad daylight. Maybe he could. Matt had a way of understanding things, like he could sometimes spot those threads of that tapestry Father Lantom had spoken about. His hand came to her cheek, warm. Kate became aware of it. At that very moment, one of those threads was being sewn before her very eyes.
She could smell it in his palm, the same grass she felt under her feet as Kate curled her toes. One of Kate's hands came to his chest, as if they were getting ready to dance, Elton John singing to them in a loop. Reminding Kate of home, letting her see New York in the way only Matt could. He had quoted the words for a reason, his thoughts having wandered there.
I thank the lord there's people out there like you.
Was this actually happening? One of the donkeys nibbled the back of her head, which only encouraged her to let out a shy chuckle as she pushed, whoever that was, out of the way. Again, Kate could breath, but her heart was trotting like a free stallion.
It was those eyes. Matt was shielding the sun, which shone like a halo above his head. And his eyes, they were as gentle and as full as love as they always were.
"Matt..."
Even with a chorus of cicadas singing their own song and with the donkeys stomping their feet and braying, Kate couldn't think of anything that made her melt as much as that simple gesture did it. Matt, holding her chin, silently encouraged her to tilt her head up, her eyes shutting slowly as she closed her gapped lips. Kate welcomed the kiss, cocking her head as her brain tried its hardest to process what was happening.
This is happening,
It is really, actually happening.
Matt's chin, his cheek, it scratched her in a deluightful way with his stubble, the corners of Kate's lips pulling into a soft smile as she cupped Matt's cheek in response. She kissed him softly at first, little by little allowing herself to grow more enthusiastic as the hand on his chest moved down to his hip.
She kissed Matt, eager to let him know that his lips tasted of little, ordinary miracles.