Sharlot and the War Council

At Matt's:

By the time we got to Matt's house my eyes were golden. A color they haven't been since me and Matt used to hang out freely. Golden, the color my eyes turn when I am experiencing pure joy.

We had stopped at our favorite food place and got knishes with mustard just like we used to. We had told stories about our classes and reminisced about the past, staying away war with ease. I almost peed my pants when Matt did his Lance impression.

"I haven't seen you eyes that color in a while, Beanbag. What Lance doesn't make you happy?" He opened his front door.

I giggled he hasn't called me Beanbag since he brought me one when I was twelve. He called me it do to my obsession with having one. "Of course he makes me happy. He just isn't you silly," I realized how bad it was as pushed him lightly while still laughing.

He smiled and pulled me so close to him I could feel his heart beat against my chest. "I missed this, sweetie. It just being us and with no worries. We could just relax. It feels so natural." I smiled at him my eyes turning amnesty."I'm glad I make you happy and put you at ease." He was reacting to color of my eyes. His smile was so beautiful I felt my heart dance like it did on my sixteenth birthday as he lead me up to my room.

I nuzzled my face into his neck breathing in his scent. "How is it that you memorized the list I gave you in first grade with all the meaning of my eye colors?"

"Because it matters to me." He said into my hair. I felt a familiar warmth fill my stomach. It was so pleasant.

"Hey there Sharlot we haven't seen you and Matt like that......."

"Since Doll." Matt's parents, me and Matt said at the same time then laughed. I wonder for a moment where Matt's brother was but then it passed. He was never home, I saw very little of him since the army.

"Staying for dinner?" Matt's mom asked.

I had forgotten how beautiful she is. Her auburn hair fell to her waist and her eyes were a beautiful light brown eyes framed by thick lashes. Her curves like that of a Spanish guitar. She stood at 5'6 and she had such delicate features.

"Sure." Matt squeezed my hand and smied at me. "Just like old times." I squeezed back.