Gaze

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They met like everyone does, without any control of where and when, but what matters is that they did. He recalls that first day, a kind face amid an unfamiliar crowd. Tried to meet her gaze, in an obvious way yet trying to be subtle; very James Bond-ish. She just swept her hair and turned away. They did finally speak. Difficult not to, when you're locked in a room together for days with a dearth of good-looking, interesting people. He got friendly and ever so often, in conversations that were treading on unfamiliar ground, she swept her hair and looked the other way. 

He didn't like her avoiding his gaze. He strayed to other women, sheepishly blurting out his infatuations, she just nodded and stared into his eyes; beautiful brown eyes that finally broke away from his. Maybe she found the world more interesting to look at than his face. He tried to meet her often, but the conversations weren't the same. How could they be? Time flew past, but not time used well. He didn't wonder or weigh what he missed out on, blissfully unaware. 

Good days have a habit of creeping up on you when you least expect them, or prepare for them. Once again, he found himself moving through an unfamiliar crowd, which suddenly, effortlessly blurred away to reveal those gleaming brown eyes. Pleasantries weren't all that were exchanged; That look, of unsure yearning. This time he made sure they met again. Felt like a fresh start, getting to know each other all over again. Memories of good conversations seldom contain the subjects of conversations themselves. All they recall now is long walks, beaches and sunsets. They weren't one for cliches, but what're good relationships without them? 

The story played itself out all over again. They got to know each other again. He felt closer than ever before, treading carefully on thin ice. He dropped subtle hints, all she did was swiftly look away, her hair moving in majestic arcs. He thought and wondered of what could be, if only she'd meet his gaze. He took that plunge, asked her to be with him. She smiled, stared into his eyes, like she never had before. It seemed like he saw her for the very first time; so open, unguarded, receptive, almost naked. Those big brown eyes. 

Their relationship was stuck in a loop, starting another cycle again. Like an aged bottle of wine lying in a cellar, that's still new on uncorking it. They got to know another side of themselves. He felt like nothing could pull them apart. He took another plunge. Asked her why she always swept her hair and looked away. She smiled, then blushed; her eyes darting between him and the ground. She sheepishly mumbled, "I didn't want you to know how I actually felt. Sometimes I tried to hide a smile, and seldom that look when you hurt me. Didn't make things too difficult for you now, did I?". With that, she flashed a mischievous grin, grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him close and kissed him. "Except now, I don't have to hide my feelings anymore". This time, it wasn't her who looked away to hide a scarlet face.