heartbeet, part "heart"
he hissed in her ears, "come with me to the rooftop". along they went with a bottle of fine vodka, "the root of all evils (and creativity)", according to her. shooting stars above tars, the night burned slowly and deliciously. earlier that afternoon, acquaintance was made and curiosity fueled them both, gradually drawing them to each other like a weak magnet. she found herself gravitating towards him; he caught her casting him delightful smiles. exquisite looks were shot at each other. then came the shots. A* performance. in the utmost natural way, clinking and knocking, sounds of heavenly shows before a crowd of well-dressed peacocks. dinner was served - but she wasn't certain that he's got what it takes. buns were passed, conversations exchanged amongst their musical comrades. something was lacking still, she thought. at this very precise moment, he dragged a chair over to her. the evening began, souls opening-up intentioned. back on the rooftop, after what felt like hours together on the black and white keys, forming tunes for the broken-hearted; hands were clasped, lips were sealed with lust. two fine optimists, chased out of the premise where it all started, landed on a bouncy mattress with quirky collections of the young gentleman. the night of ardor hadn't finished... it never will.
letters of fondness: therein lies the truth. how could such a short affair hit the spot so hard and accurately? somehow, it all felt like it was meant to be. her train took a break for inspirations, and he jumped in with much ferocity. his boyish charm veils his deep wisdom, his passion for life experiences. ultimately, with people. his easygoing vibes are so in sync with hers. their spiritual orientations were on the same page. 2 days passed and her doubts were casted away. all of the pondering done together awakened her real spirit, her true self.
twas truly a scrumptious one.