Their hands graze against each other as they walk by the river. The lights overbearing, the sounds overstimulating, and their hands just aching to hold another. They give in with an arm loop, the intertwining of their arms sufficient for now. It was playful and sweet but did not give away what they were, at least not to random strangers on the street. This closeness though was never completely fulfilling for either of them.
The sweet smell of an ice-cream shop. They exchange glances and giggle at their audacity of pretending not to be tempted. Arms still looped, they get a cup to share. Something simple and something exciting. Soft fingers grazing against each other as they eat from the same cup, holding on a second too long to prolong these fleeting moments. A moment of quiet descends on them. No customers, no staff. No watching eyes or puzzled looks. One of them reaches for the other, grazing their face and tucking their hair behind their ears. A moment of intimacy that only exists for them. The sounds return, and the seriousness of the moment dissipates. They easily fall back into their laughing selves, trying not to think too much about their hearts breaking as they pull away.
Back to the river once again, arms again looped. This time, however, their faces are closer— not enough to cause anyone around any concern, but enough for them. They talk about work and family and life over and over again. Where they lack in physical contact, they make up for with conversation. They talk about what family means to them, what they mean to each other, what they could mean to each other, and what they hope to mean to each other. Their heads finding a resting spot on each other's shoulders as they sighed and breathed together. From afar, merely just friends finding comfort after a hard day, and they were friends, but in the soft privacy of dim lights and walls, they were so much more.
Facing away from civilisation, with only the river as a witness, they kiss each other's hands that rest lazily on the others knees. Small and tender moments that were washed away by the calm flow of the river. Only the Earth as a spectator because she would never betray.
They reminisce about times past, beaches with golden sand and sun, mountains frigid and fraught, and streets bathed in colours they could never have imagined seeing. One draws circles in the other's hand, thinking about the first time they had kissed in the full glory of the sky and grass and mud and ice. Up on that mountain where it was freezing and all they wanted to do was run back down into the valleys where they would be safe from the Earth's ravaging. The realisation that they were alone and the stark contrast of the cold winds and warm lips. How ironic it was how the most unwelcoming of environments was what they had needed the most? The refuge that was provided in the swirl of the winds and fog. Only when the stars aligned, though.
Hours had passed without them realizing. Their hair wind-swept, feeling nice and cool, as they walked away from the river. The streets were quieter, but even so, they were careful. How long had it been since they could hold, touch, and caress? No people, no cars, just trees slightly swaying above them. Maybe tonight the stars aligned for them again.