Of Love and War

Being chased was nothing like the movies. The stars look heroic, sexy and in command of the situation. Reality was far removed from that pretty version of running to save you skin. Zoya wheezed as her burning lungs gasped for air. Her legs felt numb and unsteady, her throat felt dry, so uncomfortably dry. She couldn't see any form running behind her anymore due to the bends she had taken along the alleys but she kept running still.

Soon, she had to stop to catch her breath. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, exhausted. Her legs gave up beneath her as she leaned on the walls as her breathing began to become steadier. Before she started running, the sky was crystal clear and now when she looked up, Black clouds had sprawled across the sky. The air grew heavy and the humidity pressed down, suffocating. The scent of rain was dark and heady.

Before she could relish in the idea of being beaten by rain, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her, "Miss, you shouldn't do this. This is a very dangerous side of the town and you don't want to run into the wrong hands. Please, stop running away, the rain will start any minute too, you don't want to catch a cold." Not bothering about the care and concern underlining the voice, she took to her heels again.

Nothing was going to stop her from taking the bus, if running for so long was what it would take, she was ready to keep running. She kept taking more bends trying to cause a confusion and then she ran into a very soft wool, a soft wool with a soft hand that held her carefully before she could fall all the way down. She saw a penguin feet and had to shake her head properly as if trying to get hold of the situation.

It's not everyday that you see a penguin and it's damn near impossible to see a man in a penguin costume waddling along the alleyways.

Zoya looked up to see what kind of man would be comfortable and unashamed walking around in such a hilarious costume and what she saw captivated her. The man had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. Really, she was mannerly enough to avoid gawking at random strangers but this man before her, dressed in a penguin costume yet radiating with nothing but grace, had her enthralled. He was mesmerizing in every way.

So dark were his eyes that she felt herself falling into them, wrapped in a warm brown blanket. Never did Zoya think she'd find herself in this situation, drowning in a man's eyes or even feeling attracted to a stranger on the streets. Was this what they called love at first sight?

"Miss! Miss! Where are you miss?!" The same voice called out as Zoya began to panic, the voice was too close already so Zoya did what she never thought she would have ever done in her whole life, her lips were suddenly locked with the stranger's, kissing him. The start of the soft touch sent a strong feeling of warmth spiraling through her system. Her eyes closed fearlessly, but the closure didn't let her see darkness, it instead created colours of fondness. Her tense nerves soon began to relax, her troubles began to melt away and the surroundings began to disappear leaving only her, her and this man. This. This felt true. This felt good. It felt so right.

Zoya could feel the owner of the voice watching them from a distance but she soon heard his retreating feet as he probably thought he was getting in the way of some couple's public display of affection but she was already in too deep to pull away.

His lips felt so gentle, so warm, she felt her hands begin to slide up his chest and encircle his neck, as the kiss began to grow heavy. The stranger's left hand grabbed her face while his right hand tightened around her waist. She continued kissing him hungrily wanting more. She felt herself being pushed against the wall and then realized that the man had managed to change the position such that she was between him and the wall. The kiss went on, their lips moving in perfect sync and the kiss becoming more passionate by the second.

A stillness fell over the street, and in the silence came a low crackle of thunder, rolling across rooftops to the pattering of tiny raindrops. For a moment, everything stopped. Even the wind held its breath. A streak of hot silver split the sky, and then the downpour began. This did nothing to stop the kissers as their lips only parted to let in some air and clasped onto one another once again with an adding of more pressure. The man's hand slid smoothly onto her arm, lifting it and pinning it against the wall. Their kiss grew more greedy, her mouth locking tighter.

The street appeared to have sprung into existence solely for the couple kissing so tenderly, their faces dripping with the wintry gifts of clouds. One of his hands, gently in her hair, hers upon his chest. No one has ever kissed her like this. Ha! Nobody had ever kissed her. She'd always wondered what stories meant by melting in a kiss, now she fully understood, dissolving into a stranger's lips.

Reluctantly, Zoya removed her lips from the stranger's, leaning frailly against the wall. Her eyes leisurely began to open, eyelids relaxed as she slowly sucked in the wet air. The man stared back, his eyes calm.

"Uhm... uh... when is the last bus leaving?" Zoya asked refusing to meet the man's eyes.

"In the next 20minutes, I guess." He replied, his voice still unsteady as he stared at the wet woman in front of him with confusion. How she could just ask him about the last bus as if they didn't just have an unexpected ravaging of each other's mouths and bodies had him unstable.

"Well... I better get going then." Zoya said as she moved away from him and suddenly felt the warmth she had when she was close to him creep away while the cold came in fiercely.

"Oh, I take the bus home too. We can just walk together." The man replied.

As they rode in the bus, they both couldn't stop sneaking glances at each other, each one battling their thoughts and trying the grasp the situation they just had.

Zoya loved bus rides. She always described it as a silver cocoon over the earth, eyes on the trees that grow in their infinite patience, leaves breathing out oxygen, bathing in the same light as she soon will. She felt the movement of the wheels over the road, following the curves and greeting each slope in its smooth way. These bus rides were her meditation, they gave her so much inspirations on what to write about.

Soon, the bus stopped and the man whispered a quick goodbye to her before he stepped out of the bus alongside with few other people. Zoya looked out at him through the windows and when she saw that he was still standing there looking right back at her too. She drew something on the bus window with her finger and the man caught it right away.

She drew a heart.