Young and Warm and Wild and Free.

I found out the truth about that weekend, and it was as I expected. I don't understand the lying, I would have been broken back then, but now? Now I trust her, I am happy, and so is she. The past is the past. Both of ours' tainted with black.

~

Together they sat in the dark, the only bench in the street, dimly lit by a streetlight. At first it was dry, but with a bite in the air that nipped at every corner of your being.

Cold fingers attempt to roll out tobacco filled papers, but slip antagonising, in the dry breeze, creating sausage-like cigarettes. But they preferred the cold to the patter of rain to follow.

As it grew colder, she found it logical to run, run around in circles, squares, anything. Once the wine was gone they ran, into the air, and the night, away from their bags. They pressed the button to stop the traffic, and sidled across as if they were cool, swinging their arms in a suave fashion.
Across the road she ran toward me, breathless and smiling, I took her in my arms and held her close to me, kissing her mouth with mine, our hot breath mingling amongst the ice cold morning. Sparks of arousal sprung amongst us as we hold on tight, wishing it was somewhere warm where we could embrace and give each other what we want. Trapped in the cold we have no other choice but to wait.

Play the songs from my phone, as the rain drips into the speakers, we hold hands and dance, we pretend we're back in town, dancing amongst people who are covered in makeup, sweat, and tears. We are only full of hope, but she is full of pain. Her knees ache in the cold, but still she runs toward me ready to be scooped up and held safe as always.

I'd say a night to remember, but alongside the echo of her tears and pain I am not so sure. The cold was unbearable and we were stranded, money spent, tears roll.