Inspired by Donghae and Eunhyuk's Sweater and Jeans

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The door swung open and the bell attached to it tinkled, as a cold draft of air made its way in along with her. Her face was a traditional one, just like it was out of an old movie he remembered watching with his father. She looked lost, hugging her sweater closer to her skin. It was a dull gold, vintage, he deduced, watching her rub her hands together as her pale cheeks turned a healthy pink again. Sounds of her footsteps on the wooden floor reminded him of the fact that he was staring a little too obviously as he hastily took a sip of the dark coffee sitting on his table singeing his tongue in the process.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” her voice was mellow, as his eyes shot up to meet hers “All the other seats are taken…” she began shyly again as he gaped at her moving lips. Her fingers clutched at a mug of coffee as the hope in her eyes slowly began to fade. He jolted back to reality.

“Sure. Please do.”

She smiles as she takes a seat in front of him, his dark pants brushing against her faded blue jeans. He feels like he’s somewhere in an old movie where they’re sitting at a café in Hollywood with all the spot lights on them and where the rest of the world around them is simply dark. She takes a sip of her coffee, looking thoughtfully into space as she sighs.

“To be honest, I’m a little lost.”

***
Her head shoots up as she hears the shutter of his camera go off. She is like a living picture he wanted to capture over and over in sepia tinted paper. The long curls flowing down to the curve of her back, the black faded jeans, the patterned sweater – everything. She leans against the parapet of the bridge, gazing at the river flowing by under an orange sky with painted clouds lazily gliding across it.

“You insisted that we meet here and you bring your camera along?” amusement tinges her voice as she turns to him and he can’t help but gasp watching the long curls float behind her, following the wind. She looks prettier than she did the day before, or the day before that.  He raises his camera to capture her again as she raises her eyebrows.

“It’s to capture the moment.” He explains as she shakes her head.

“It’s about being in the moment too,” She twirls around the grey sidewalk on the bridge, breathing the autumn air with a pleased smile “you can capture the moment with your two hands.” Her palms are raised to the ever fading sun as they close over the warm amber orb. She’s smiling as he looks at her, his eyes memorizing her form and the feeling of just her. His hand reaches for hers when they begin walking towards nowhere in particular. When his fingers intertwine with hers almost naturally and she turns to him he can only say.

“I’m capturing the moment.”

***
His lips caress the skin of her hand as she leaves her apartment. He loves how simply dressed she is. The vintage sweater, the blue jeans, the silly happy smile on her face which turns into a blush at his actions. They’re going for a walk around the park to gaze at the stars and as much as he wanted to take his camera along, he wants to share every second with her. He wanted to capture everything about her with his senses.

And he does, when they lay down on the grass, her head on his chest and her scent overtaking his senses. He loves how her fingers caress his chest and his her hair as their eyes fix themselves on the unending inky blue sky, dotted with sparkling stars and the moon hanging over them.

There are shooting stars in the sky when his lips slant over hers. It’s the perfect moment he concludes, feeling her palm cup at his cheek, pressing closer to him. He revels in the softness of her lips moving against his sending a jolt up his spine as his brain slowly gets drunk on her kisses alone. The soft woollen sweater is grasped onto by his fingers as he loses himself to the dizzying kiss as does she.

***

The vintage patterned sweater hangs onto the chair in his room as the jeans which had clung to her legs the night before lay across the arm of the same chair. She’s fast asleep wrapped around him just like the aforementioned clothes had been around her. Their scents mingled to create what he could only deem heavenly. He gazes at her face, deciding she looked prettier than yesterday (or the many days before that). He presses his lips to her forehead as her eyes flutter open to look back up at him with a tender smile.  He instantly feels warm just like she deems her extensive collection of sweaters and jeans to keep her.

She’s his vintage sweater and jeans.