Work Text:
The only sound around us is the crashing of the waves against the stone cliffs fifty metres below us and the rustle of the small forest behind us, its leaves shaken by the strong wind. The sky is cloudy and grey, draining the world around us of colour and depth. The ocean seems like a mirror, just as grey and unjust as the vast expense stretching above us.
She is straightening out nonexistent wrinkles in the blanket. "We should come here more often." It's just a whisper, as if speaking too loud could shatter the moment. "It's so beautiful." Just like you, I think, but don't say the words out loud.
She leans back onto her elbows and stretches her legs. They must be hurting after she's been sitting cross-legged for so long. Instead of answering, I just nod. The wind is ripping away most words anyway. It's a miracle I even heard her with the gale around us.
Her blue eyes seem dull in the dimmed light of the foggy afternoon. At home, the first snow fell a few days ago, but here, one and a half hours away, right next to the ocean, it's a bit warmer and the clouds keep their load. It's freezing cold nonetheless. Both of us are packed into thick coats, with scarfs and gloves, hats firmly pulled over our ears. "It's bitterly cold, though.", I say a moment later, stating the obvious. She laughs quietly, a raw and throaty sound. "We could just go in the summer instead of end of November." Again, I just nod.
She lies down, watching the sky. "I think I should bring my easel next time. This whole place makes my fingertips itch with inspiration." She laughs once more. "Don't answer. I know it's ridiculous." It isn't, I think, but before I can answer, she goes on. "It bet your eyes match the woods when it's sunnier." For some reason, we've never been here any time there was good weather. It's more of an escape, really. When it gets all gloomy and dark at home, this place is still beautiful and inspiring.
My eyes go wander. There's the ocean, clearly visble, the edge of the cliff, not even a metre away. The sky, and the forest. And her. All this beauty around us, and still, she's the most stunning sight.
We just are for a while then. It gets dark and a handful of stars fight their way through the canopy. The moon even tears a hole into it. The sight is marvellously gorgeous. It tugs at my heart, strums chords in it, makes me want to pick up a paintbrush, too, just to somehow capture it and make it tangible, real. To make it shareable, because what is beauty for if not for everyone to see and enjoy?
Maybe that's what made her become an artist. Maybe that's what makes her work so incredibe. Maybe that's what's so fascinating about her.
I want to point it out to her. I want to dance with her to the music inside of me. I want to share this moment with her, so it becomes true beauty.
The moment I look at her though, I can't. She looks so enraptured, almost taken prisoner by the spectacle. I can't break her out of that spell. Suddenly, something inside me clicks into place, making my heart not only sing but roar with joy. The way the light plays with the smile on her face, points out her dimples and the first indications of crow's feet. In this moment, I feel like I can see eternity with her.
Her expression shifts, from a captured half-smile to a toothy grin. "Look at the sky, not at me, silly." I read it from her lips more than I actually here it. "I know that I am mortal by nature, and ephemeral; but when I trace at my pleasure the windings to and fro of the heavenly bodies I no longer touch the earth with my feet: I stand in the presence of Zeus himself and take my fill of ambrosia. That's Ptolemy, a Greek writer. I've always loved that quote." She pauses a moment. "Now look up, silly, and take your fill of ambrosia." She winks and falls to silence again.
I stare at her in disbelief. This fragment of perfection in my life. This glimpse of forever she brings to me. It feels as if time has stopped and the galaxy narrows down to just the two of us.
Standing up, I reach for her hand. "Dance with me?" I ask, because I feel as if I'm trying to hold back even a moment longer, I'll explode from emotion filling me to the brim with happiness, gratitude, adoration, love.
Again, she laughs. Shaking her head, she murmurs: "There isn't even music" but by the way she says it I know she feels it, too.
She takes my left hand into hers and I bring my right hand to her hip. "Come on!" I giggle and start swaying, shuffling us around, spinning her through the air. I feel so incredibly alive in that moment, vibrating with energy, rupturing with how lucky I am to have her.
We both laugh when we finally fall onto the blanket again, cuddling together because by now, the cold has an uncomfortable bite to it. She pushes a strand of hair back under my beanie. "I love you, you know?" Smiling, I reach for her hand, which is now cupping my cheek, and run my thumb over the slither of skin between her gloved palm and the beginning of her sleeve. "I know", I whisper. She pushes me onto my back and curls into me, slipping her hand into mine in the process. When her head is settled on my chest, I press a kiss onto the top of her head. "I love you, too." I feel her laugh. "I know."
I swear that for a moment, everything goes silent and stops moving. As my heart almost bursts, we fall into perpetuity.