It was a few minutes before midnight. The street was deserted and the yellow street lamps cast a warm shade on the empty road.
She was wearing my sweater and we were walking arm in arm, her head gently resting on my shoulder. It was a peaceful night and all I could think about was how lucky we were to be together.
Talking seemed useless that night because even our sighs of contentment seemed to be in sync. We walked quietly for a while and stopped when we reached a fallen tree.
What used to be its source of connection to the earth was now dried up, facing the empty road. The trunk was wide enough, though, and we sat on it.
She sat close to me and leaned into me. I draped my arm across her shoulder and pulled her close. I didn’t know what shampoo she’d used but her hair smelled like a garden.
I closed my eyes and just breathed it in. The heat of our bodies so close could start a small fire. And that passion felt like life itself.
We held on closer not daring to let go. We knew what this night meant to us, how it would change our lives forever. We knew how far we had come and how it would matter little after tonight.
When we left the apartment earlier, we promised to put our worries behind us for as long as we could and just live. And that was what we tried to do.
My mind drifted back to a simpler time, on a night like this when we walked down a similar empty road.
We were younger and happier then, not caring about the world or carrying heavy burdens on our shoulders. We laughed a lot then and promised to never let go–come what may.
I could still see the twinkle in her eyes when I closed mine. But when she finally pulled away from me and looked into my eyes, all I saw was sadness.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“I know.”
She fell silent again, looking into the distant darkness. A streetlight fluctuated down the road before finally going off. I took her hand and squeezed it gently.
She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Then she got up and took off my sweater. I said nothing as I took it from her. She absentmindedly rubbed her arm as the cold breeze blew. I wanted to hold her or give her the sweater back to put on, but I knew it didn’t matter.
It was past midnight.
She looked at me and I saw the pain in her eyes before another streetlight went off, plunging the street ahead into darkness.
I got up too leaving the sweater on the trunk of the fallen tree. We began to walk together into the darkness. Except now, we walked apart, bracing ourselves for the darkness and the cold ahead.
Prompt: Clad
