In The Season Of Us

I search for your waves at the beach, their slow motion calming my soul. From afar, I seek her in the rhythm of dance, her long curly hair flowing gracefully.

August was his favorite time of the year. It was at the beach when he found her and fell to his knees, drawn into the depth of her dark brown eyes.

As the seasons changed, October became the month he followed her most, hiding in shadows while she became his light.

She danced to find peace and comfort; he rode the waves to tame the storm within. In a field of roses where they met again, soul to soul, she ran to him. But as the wind rose, she fell, thorns cutting into her skin.

Beneath the stars, he gazed into her eyes with a tender smile. Nearby, tulips swayed gently in the breeze. He picked one and handed it to her.

"Take it; it won't hurt you—it has no thorns."

Looking up to the moon, its soft glow uniting their differences, she asked,

"Can I hold you like a hostage?"

He smiled and pulled her close.

"Only if I can be your willing prisoner."

At the finish line, he hesitated and stepped back. She turned, tears welling in her eyes.

"I don't know how to keep this bond strong," he whispered.

As he moved away, she grasped his arm firmly.

"Let me guide us through this," she promised softly.