Creative Writing, Fiction, Life

Little Things

The sun glared across her brown body laying against the white sand. He, lying next to her counted the sporadic dark spots on her shoulders and neck. There were nine altogether, six on her shoulders and three on her neck.

“Stop staring at me.”

“How would you know I’m staring at you”, he replied.

“Because I can feel your eyes pressing on me harder than the sun”, she smiles and opened one squinted eye. She rolled onto her side to face him. He thought to himself, she’s so beautiful. “I can tell when you’re staring at me.”

“Oh yeah,” he snickered.

“Yeah,” she flirted, tapping his nose with her fingers, wearing a seductive grin. “It’s this sixth sense I have with you.”

“Only with me,” he asked. She leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“No, not only with you,” she smiled. He giggled and flicked sand at her as she rolled onto her back. He thought to himself, I know it’s not only with me. He hated feeling insecure about her feelings for him. When he was around her, he found himself intimidated and unsure of his words and actions.

“Let it go,” she said without movement. He turned his gaze towards the ocean afraid she was staring right through him. He pressed the bits of sand between his fingers rolling them together as he watched the waves form and crash… form and crash… repeating its cycle. He noticed each wave was different, smaller or larger than the next, breaking at different times.

“We lay out here any longer, we’re closer to becoming cancer candidates,” he said while lying back down.

“Even cancer has the right to live,” She said softly.

He huffed, “Well, that’s one way to look at it.” They lay there for awhile and she began to feel lonely for him. She slid her hand across the sand and reached for his. He squeezed her hand then rolled his head over to look at her. He said, “I love you.” She didn’t return the sentiment.

“I’m not uncomfortable with saying it,” she knew he was waiting for her to say the same words back, “I think I said it when I reached for your hand.” He smiled and squeezed her hand again. “Sometimes moments don’t need to be caught in photographs and sometimes words don’t need to be said to express emotion.” He laughed loud and hard and she looked at him puzzled. What’s so funny, she thought.

“What are you today, the Dali Lama or something?”  He continued laughing. She thought about what she had said and then joined him, laughing out loud.