Handsome met Beautiful - Mel Afoa

　
I feel his presence before I see him.
I sense he is here, waiting, hoping. It's something we have both been doing for the past couple of years. I can feel something more than love radiating my heart. I feel as if excitement just leaked through from my heart into my veins.
He is waiting somewhere, his hands running through his golden brown hair. His green eyes are wandering the airport, looking for any sign of me. He waits, his built body leaning against some wall. His eyes show he is pondering something. He wants to run and hide. He doesn;t even know what he is doing there; Deja vu had taken hold of him. He knew it was too late to turn back. He could feel her presence, feel her coming closer. He started to walk around in circles, looking at the board. A flight had landed from Australia. He knew that was her flight.

I have never met him before, so I have a right to be nervous. I don't know why, but it feels as if I'll have the best days of my life here in France. The weather is beautiful here. The sun is up, having waited for my arrival. The wind is here though, forcing me to snuggle to the brown, leather coat I have on. I look around, wishing I had more make-up on. I start to feel self-conscious. Is my hair sticking up? Does my body look fat in these jeans? Do I have lip balm on my teeth?


He starts walking towards the arrival gate, hands softly shaking in his pocket. He has never seen her, never met her, never talked to her. His instincts had brought him here. He had woken up to a soft voice in his heart telling him to drive to the airport. It was today. He thought it was stupid, love. He had fallen in love before, only to have his heart broken. He could not afford to have another heartbreak, but something was telling him he would never need to experience it again. He was growing more confident as he walked towards the gate. She was coming.

I start for the gates after the Customs Officer checks my bags. Unfortunately, she has to take one of my big bags, since I packed alot of fruit. Lesson learnt - France hates Mangoes. I stop suddenly. My heart starts beating fast. I can sense closer than ever before. I can feel his eyes on the wall in front of me. I can somehow feel his body heat. I pat my straightened hair down, just in case it became bushy from excitement. I slowly walk towards the exit of the room, where everyone outside is waiting. I can feel him.

She was one of the last to walk out of the gates. My instincts were right - she was the definition of beautiful. She walked into the room, light, brown eyes searching for something. Her hair was a light brown, blonde colour, half straightened, half frizzy. Her lips were plum, a beauty spot situated in between her nose and mouth on the left of her face. Shd had a beautiful body, skin the colour of light timber. The long leather jacket covered half her floral dress, which fitted perfectly around her body, the colours radiating her every beauty. She was the sun that just crashed on earth - beautiful, bright and deadly.

I saw him when I walked through the gates, leaning lazily on the pole, eyes searching for something. His eyes were leaf-coloured, its light green lighting up the airport. He had olive skin, and looked like he was in a photoshoot. One ear was pierced, a piece earring hanging silently. He was tall, muscular in the right places, with his brown, blonde hair to top it all off. He was the most handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on, better than the hottest model on earth. He was her moon, bright, white and clear with envy.

***

They met halfway. Both were walking forward without their knowledge, eyes never leaving each other. He felt love burst from his skin. She finally felt the burn of love. He knew he would never ever fall in love ever again, for he laid his eyes on the defintion of Love. She knew she would die if he were to even talk to her, even if it was to tell her to move. Blue eyes met Brown.
They touched without noticing. His hand immedietly went to carress her face. She was too busy in his eyes to notice her trolley about to tip over. Slowly, she reached and buried her hands in his light hair. People walking past would mistake them as a couple. But, they were perfect strangers, each tricked by the power of love, by instincts. He slowly moves his focus from his eyes to her mouth. It is luring him in. He slowly bends forward, and Alas! His lips touch hers gently, the world coming to a stop. She feels the butterflies surrounding her, lifting her into the blue sky. He snakes his arms around her waist, gently pulling her closer. She weaves her hands through his hair, her lips kissing his.

Soulmate met soulmate.
Boy met Girl.
Love met Lust.
Handsome met Beautiful.


NO COPYING WITHOUT PERMISSION.