they never romanced.
I have a drabble originally written for 30_kisses.
For he and she, romance was unheard of.
The way they lived life was not like a love story. It was not dramatic with a tragic ending-they were merely forced into marriage and had no objections. It was not a love story-it was a life story.
They lived and loved. They never romanced.
When other women would ask for diamonds and jewelry and other monetary goods, she would ask for him to sleep beside her. Make her feel like she was worth something.
When other men offered roses and poetry that was not their own, he would smile at her with pride upon her mastering a new technique. He would tell her that she was not like the others.
Their kisses did not make them melt into each other or forget about the world. Their lovemaking was not a fiery blaze of passion.
Their lives were not lived dishonestly with purple adjectives and lies, but with the plain, simple truth.
Sometimes they wondered if they were living in a strange fantasy world or the place between dream and reality-where people are never quite sure which is which. Often they wondered if they had done something good in a past life to deserve each other, as simple as their lives were lived. It was confusing, most of the time.
But perhaps that is just the way love is meant to be.
finite.
For he and she, romance was unheard of.
The way they lived life was not like a love story. It was not dramatic with a tragic ending-they were merely forced into marriage and had no objections. It was not a love story-it was a life story.
They lived and loved. They never romanced.
When other women would ask for diamonds and jewelry and other monetary goods, she would ask for him to sleep beside her. Make her feel like she was worth something.
When other men offered roses and poetry that was not their own, he would smile at her with pride upon her mastering a new technique. He would tell her that she was not like the others.
Their kisses did not make them melt into each other or forget about the world. Their lovemaking was not a fiery blaze of passion.
Their lives were not lived dishonestly with purple adjectives and lies, but with the plain, simple truth.
Sometimes they wondered if they were living in a strange fantasy world or the place between dream and reality-where people are never quite sure which is which. Often they wondered if they had done something good in a past life to deserve each other, as simple as their lives were lived. It was confusing, most of the time.
But perhaps that is just the way love is meant to be.
finite.