waterymeldrop - Tumblr blog

[waterymeldrop]

YUP.

“The police don’t target black people,” says the white person.

“LGBTQ+ people have plenty of protection,” says the straight, cisgender person.

“Women don’t feel harassed at work,” says the man. 

“Poor people don’t need more government help,” says the rich person. 

“Immigrants feel welcome here,” says the natural-born citizen. 

Please stop invalidating the concerns of people who have problems that you’re not experiencing. Instead, listen to them, and learn what you can do to help. 

[waterymeldrop]

“...some things are better left in the past. And true things are destined to repeat themselves.”

-Suzanne Young, The Program

[waterymeldrop]

Slow Dance by WateryMeldrop

“I love you, baby.”

His sincere words were whispered into her ear, the affection that surged through him causing him to smile softly. He grabbed her body closer to him.

Their song played in the old recorder, the drawn beats and slow ambience uniting and reinforcing their bond. One step to the right and another to the left. Their memorized choreography makes him emotional.

He felt so safe and comfortable right there with the most important person in his life in between his strong arms. He could never lose her.

She was his everything.

His arms tighten unconsciously against the solid presence that was her body and he buries his face into her hair to smell her usual scent. Vanilla and a tint of coconut. He has the smell memorized into his brain by now after doing the same thing for years of being married.

His wife. The love of his life. All his.

He adjusts her left arm when it falls from his shoulder and looks down with pure and unconditional fondness at her. He had always been taller and stronger, he took advantage of these qualities to always protect her weaker and smaller frame.

He had always treated her like she was made of the finest porcelain. He looks into her green eyes, the eyes he fell in love with. The eyes he would stare at night when they would whisper sweet nothing to each other.

The eyes that always held so much passion and love, always lit with the rarest fire.

She stares back at him, unblinkingly, not looking at him but into him. Like no one else could. He smiles at her stare. Left step, right step.

He leans down and all the memories of their love rush right in front of his eyes. The subway station they met at, the first time she smiled that perfect smile at him, their first date, when he proposed at the dark park no one was at, their wedding. Every memory just so full of love and trust.

The chorus in the slow song comes up, the woman singing has an amazing voice that captures the way love feels perfectly. He remembers her reaction when he showed her the song the first time, she gave him a pair of wide eyes and she got up from the bed they were laying in after a flash of excitement went through her beautiful eyes.

Her body always looked amazing and the sight always stirred something inside of him. But her smile; it had always captured him the most. The way her eyes crinkled and her lips curled in a perfect way to show her pearly, straight teeth. She is so perfect, he would always think.

Perfect for him.

“A dance?” She had asked that day, giving her hand out for him to take, the sunlight hit her curves in all the right ways and her eyes held nothing but pure contentment and life. He could get lost in them. He took her hand without a doubt that day.

That was the first time they slow danced. It felt like they were connected completely, just like they are right now.

He hums along with the chorus, his deep voice makes his chest rumble and the sound vibrates against her chest. She’s still staring at him. He laughs in delight and pushes a strand of black hair covering her face behind her ear gently. So beautiful.

Right step, left step.

Her lips are a radiant red, so soft looking. There’s no make up in her face, just her in her raw nature and form. His favourite look in her by far.

Today she looks especially raw and real. Her skinny and pale form just encourages him to be more careful than ever.

He shakes his head with an easy smile when her feet slip a bit against his, pulling her tighter so she doesn't fall.

The second chorus comes up and he laughs to himself silently. He wished the song never ended. Slowly tracing his hand from the side of her waist to the back of her neck he grabs her as carefully as he can and leans down.

He delivers an almost invisible kiss to the cheek. Another to the forehead. And, lastly, one in her soft lips. Even then he's afraid she will disappear in front of him.

The slow rhythm he sets for the kiss between them has his knees growing weak. He could get lost in this moment forever.

But the song is almost over and their favourite part of the choreography comes up. His ears capture the sound and he can feel the excitement pushing his smile to grow wider.

“Ready?” He asks inaudibly, his smile never fading and his eyes staring straight into her deep ones. The song takes on a last high beat. Twirl. He directs their bodies into an insync twirl, one that has him laughing freely and throwing his head back in joy. He laughs and laughs. Her head falls back with his after the rough motions and he stops immediately.

Tutting at her softly he grabs her from the back of the head, pushing his fingers through the strand of her soft hair and she makes her lean against his shoulder again.

He’s breathless, trying to catch whatever bit of oxygen he can into her ear, the scent around him overwhelming him in the best ways. The smile never goes away.

The recorder glitches when the woman hits the last note and the song stops. Everything goes silent except for his heavy breathing and the sound of something hitting the floor rhythmically.

He looks down and frowns at the mess in the floor. He trails up the path slowly and he finds her yellow sundress hugging her waist perfectly in between his calloused and messy hands. The bright color is paired with red. The radiant color pools at the end of her dress, dripping into the floor.

Red was always a beautiful color in her. Everything she did was beautiful. Even the way her head falls back again and the way her body is completely limp against his arms is beautiful.

He could never stay mad at her, even the messes she made were perfect. His smile comes back eventually. Nothing is wrong when he’s with her.

He realizes his hands are shaking when he reaches out to caress her wet cheek. He can feel his own cheeks are wet too. He's just so lucky to have her.

He takes a step back with her body leaning in when he steps on something that makes a loud noise against the wooden floor. He looks down, annoyed, to find the knife she gifted him on christmas as a joke. He still remembers the way she laughed until she cried from it. He kicks it to the side silently.

The song is over.

The dripping noises are still there but he doesn't really mind; as long as he has her, nothing is going to be wrong. He wished the song never ended.

He starts humming his own tune, trying to recreate the vibrations the woman made with her voice. He's grabbing her closer to his body again with little to no complaint from his wife and just like that; he dances with the love of his life.

There’s an uncomfortable wetness sipping through his white shirt, into his skin, but he can't seem to care.

Her arms fall from his shoulder at the same time when he takes another step. He simply grabs her closer so there's no space between their bodies and moves to his own accord.

He interrupts his own humming to pull her thrown back head back into him. Her face is pale, and the smell of blood is nauseating. He smiles at her empty eyes.

Beautiful.

“I love you, baby.” He keeps on humming.

Right step, left step.