The Art of Love

Not Quite

Maybe it is not love quite yet. She stands there every practice waiting for him to show up. She stands there begging him to stand next to her one more time. His smile, brightening even the darkest corners of her world and all her frustrations in between. They would shield each other in every little darkened sunset, every missed shot, every little scowl or groan. He would smile with pride at her, every blazing shot after another, watching with pride, but she was never his.

Every little cheer, everything little handshake, every little nod of approval, it was as if they were just one step closer, from being real… Being forever.

There was a little unspoken spark between them, just waiting to be ignited, so she could love him the way she was scared to… And he could find it in himself to do the same. Even then, maybe it was not love quite yet… To love just to fall.

Special thanks to Alex… Just Alex.


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