Him and Her.
Four years.
They’d been friends ever since that day. Ever since that day they’ve been near inseparable. It was the best day of her life. She was crying and screaming and ready to burst. It was an average day of his life. He was playing and performing and in a routine. Every night was the same for him, every night except that night.
It had been four years since that lovely day. Every star seemed to shine it’s brightest. Four whole years. Four years since the tears and the muffled words. Four years since the hugs and the “It’ll be okay”s and “I love you, too”s. Four years since the face-to-face meeting and the immediate friendship.
Four years of perfection and happiness. Four years of the two being together. Well, it was four years, two months, three weeks, and five days, but whose counting? …other than her. She always counts.
He sent her an e-mail after that day, though she felt silly to give him her address. The e-mails turned into phone calls and the phone calls turned into frequent visits. That turned into an indescribable closeness they share. Anyone who knew them would tell you all about the midnight phone calls, and the way they talked, and the all the time he spent with his arms wrapped around her, trying to make her nightmares go away. And they always ran for the hills once he came around. He made all her problems go away, just like magic.
And when it was just the two of them, him and her, nothing else mattered. It may sound cliché and stupid, but that’s how it was. Whenever they cuddled up next to each other on his couch watching some movie, it was just too perfect. The most insanely bright, blinding form of happiness that anyone could ever experience. And all it took was four years.
Some people argued about the two together. The age difference was noticeable, her being eighteen and him thirty-three. And not to mention all the fans! All the little girls who wanted to marry him so bad had their hopes crushed by her. She was Public Enemy Number One, but that never got to her. Everyone in the world can be jealous of her, because she is as happy as can be. If you asked her, she wouldn’t be able to describe. She loved him and he truly loved her back.
Sometimes she’d ask him why. Why her? Out of the millions and millions of girls; he picked her.
“I love you.” He’d whisper in her ear, as they lay so close on his couch watching Peter Pan. Her favorite movie. She knew every line. “Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning.”
“Why?” Was always the almost-immediate response. There were so many girls he could have, yet he wanted her. He held her close at night and cared about her oh-so much. He’d shower her with gifts of whatever she wants and never regret spending all his money on her. Why? Why her?
And, as always after she’d ask this question, he’d take a sigh and sit up, staring her in the eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” He’d wipe a stray piece of her light brown hair behind her ear. “You’re smart and wonderful. You always make me laugh and I love having you around.” He’d pause as she looked up at him. They’d stare at each other. “You’re perfect.” He’d announce and place a warm soft kiss on her forehead.
And she’d wrap her arms around him and smash her face into his chest and take a deep sigh and fall asleep. She’d sleep soundly and there were never any nightmares. He wouldn’t let her have any. No matter what.
It had been four years since that lovely day. Every star seemed to shine it’s brightest. Four whole years. Four years since the tears and the muffled words. Four years since the hugs and the “It’ll be okay”s and “I love you, too”s. Four years since the face-to-face meeting and the immediate friendship.
Four years of perfection and happiness. Four years of the two being together. Well, it was four years, two months, three weeks, and five days, but whose counting? …other than her. She always counts.
He sent her an e-mail after that day, though she felt silly to give him her address. The e-mails turned into phone calls and the phone calls turned into frequent visits. That turned into an indescribable closeness they share. Anyone who knew them would tell you all about the midnight phone calls, and the way they talked, and the all the time he spent with his arms wrapped around her, trying to make her nightmares go away. And they always ran for the hills once he came around. He made all her problems go away, just like magic.
And when it was just the two of them, him and her, nothing else mattered. It may sound cliché and stupid, but that’s how it was. Whenever they cuddled up next to each other on his couch watching some movie, it was just too perfect. The most insanely bright, blinding form of happiness that anyone could ever experience. And all it took was four years.
Some people argued about the two together. The age difference was noticeable, her being eighteen and him thirty-three. And not to mention all the fans! All the little girls who wanted to marry him so bad had their hopes crushed by her. She was Public Enemy Number One, but that never got to her. Everyone in the world can be jealous of her, because she is as happy as can be. If you asked her, she wouldn’t be able to describe. She loved him and he truly loved her back.
Sometimes she’d ask him why. Why her? Out of the millions and millions of girls; he picked her.
“I love you.” He’d whisper in her ear, as they lay so close on his couch watching Peter Pan. Her favorite movie. She knew every line. “Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning.”
“Why?” Was always the almost-immediate response. There were so many girls he could have, yet he wanted her. He held her close at night and cared about her oh-so much. He’d shower her with gifts of whatever she wants and never regret spending all his money on her. Why? Why her?
And, as always after she’d ask this question, he’d take a sigh and sit up, staring her in the eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” He’d wipe a stray piece of her light brown hair behind her ear. “You’re smart and wonderful. You always make me laugh and I love having you around.” He’d pause as she looked up at him. They’d stare at each other. “You’re perfect.” He’d announce and place a warm soft kiss on her forehead.
And she’d wrap her arms around him and smash her face into his chest and take a deep sigh and fall asleep. She’d sleep soundly and there were never any nightmares. He wouldn’t let her have any. No matter what.