I stopped and gazed firmly at her innocent pearly eyes, I smudged her tears and black mascara paint was on my four fingers in its liquid form. She cried even more and hugged me tight, her painted eyes made my white t-shirt slightly black. I removed her slowly with my kind gesture and I could smell the aroma of her hair. It was like a thousand of roses scattered in a valley
Her skin was so flawless and fresh like a fresh Rose rose in a dawn. I wanted to kiss her but she turned her sight to windows and I was distracted by her ill gaze. Even I started to gaze at the windows pointlessly.
"You look more beautiful naturally", I broke the silence.
She smiled, her rosy blush was easily visible on her warm cheeks. She adjusted her topaz ring on her right index finger which was shining with the ray of light striking at the gem.
She smiled at me again and I was confused by her thousand smiles. I smiled again at her.
"Are you fine?", I asked.
She looked at the ground and smirked and replied, "Completely fine".
"Will you come upstairs?", she asked.
There were hundred of questions floating on my mind.
I was silent and I mechanically nodded my head into yes.
She went to library with old dusty books. We were alone with the tall shelves of books and a long desk and chairs. This university had no librarian.
"What is your profound connection with books?", I asked.
"I just like going to the world of deep imaginations"
I sat at the table and she sat beside me with her novel.
"And I feel like book will never hurt your emotions like some people do, you are never panged by them. They taught the real meaning of feelings through their stories", she continued.
"You have a deep connections like ocean which cannot be comprehend easily", I replied.
She caught my arms and took a refuge in them. She slightly giggled at my statement and settled herself.
"I wanted to opt English literature".
"It would be nice", I said. However, the fact is that if she opted for English literature she would never meet me and I would have never collided with her spectacular force.
Her tiny bobby pin could not balance the load of her hair and her hair suddenly fell down like a waterfall . That naughty hair. She had a rubber band on her hand. She pulled it and tied two knots on her hair.
"You look better with opened hair", I said.
The most cutest act of any girl is the way they blush rosy red.
She turned her page and blinked at me. She read Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre which had a cover of Rose , it resembled her lipstick shade.
She is mine now for this second, for this time, for this moment, she is mine. If she was a gem, I would have stole it and kept securely forever and ever.
I gently snatched her book.
"Give me", she said, "I am reading it".
She tried to get her book and her hand accidentally crawled in different parts of my body. She was on top of my lap facing me, her soft bristles of hair disturbed my face as if it wanted to give me a tingly effect.
She bent down slowly, her cinnamon eyes met my whiskey eyes, her nose gently rubbed against mine. She looked nervous and scared. I gently placed my palms at her warm cheeks.
I slowly touched her lips with my lips. Our lips met like two waves in ocean. She moved her lips up and down with complete concentration. She was too involved in this process which needed synchronization. Our lips parted and I kissed her again, my kiss received the attention which it wanted.
I panted and she adjusted her hair and sat beside the chair. We were silent and silence was broken by the bell.
She stood and kept the book in shelf.
"Bye", she said.