Sunday afternoons.


Today I found myself staring deeply into a pair of chocolate-colored, brown eyes. Those very brown eyes that made me melt every time they trailed my way. Keep in mind I didn’t peer absently. I was consumed—completely getting lost in that hauntingly gaze as the articulation of his words rolled off his tongue and gauged into sentences. Those eyes saved me every time mine cried out to his. They spoke of love and radiated a warmth that hugged me and consoled me from a distance. I was safe. I didn’t need anyone else’s attention and was satisfied completely, with his and his alone. He held a perception of myself that made me love who I am without even trying. All he ever had to do was look at me and almost instantaneously my haven was created.


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