Spectrum: Converse of Colour & Conversation

He, a grown young man of twenty, looked intently at her.  She, the girl of seventeen stood on the front porch of her house. Not quite a woman, but more than a girl.  She was dressed simply in black low rise shorts, a body hugging blue motif t-shirt and on her feet were a pair of bright red Converse All Stars.  When he saw her shoes, he smiled and looked down at his own his shoes. On his feet was a pair of black Converse. He raised his head and looked back at her. Her gorgeous long black hair fell in waves over her shoulders and under the yellow light of the porch lamp, she had a mystical radiance. His traveled up and down along her long legs, her perfectly curvy hips and paused at her neck; where a white-gold necklace glittered, nestled comfortably on the hollow of her throat. He held his hand out to her and she gracefully accepted his large warm hand in hers. 

They walked along the moonlit road, the leaves of trees rustling softly in the warm gusts of winds while fallen leaves blew across the ground as if dancing. Together they walked, hand in hand, their converse clad feet moving at the same pace. Her soft blue t-shirt clung to her body in perfect curves and the laughing wind playfully tugged at the soft strands of her long, black hair. It glistened under the bluish light on the moon. Occasionally, they nudged each other as they walked and he was warm against her. All was silence because mere words would not satisfy what they were feeling. Their interlaced fingers symbolised more than just a connection. The leaf strewn road stretched far and they walked slowly. He was at ease. The tensions that ran high earlier during the day seemed so far and so long ago now. He stole a glance at her. It was always like this ever since they met. He always put her at ease. He remembered their first meeting.

She was seated along with several other hopefuls to try out for the upcoming school drama production of the year. She loved to be on stage because she loved the rush of it all and the pure pleasure of getting a role to become your second nature. She was seated, nervous, sweaty palms and furrowed brow. He walked in, his bag slung casually over his broad left shoulder with the unmistakable air of a popular school student. He had his English book report in his hand and he groaned when he saw the line of people seated for auditions. This would be mean he would have to wait till all the auditions were over to hand in his book report to the teacher. Employing some of the choicest of swear words mentally, he sat down next to her, clearly frustrated and annoyed.

After a while, he began to get restless and bored. He tried re-reading his book  report, but that reminded him he did a bad job anyway so he started to observe the girl sitting next to him. Her head was dipped down and she was reading something. She was dressed in black skinny jeans and a loose fitting white tank top. He could see her yellow bra straps clinging on to her shoulders and he was dearly longing to snap them, as he would have done to other girls. But something stopped him. She adjusted her poistion and crossed her legs and she saw that on her feet were a pair of dark blue Converse.  He looked down at his feet to see his own pair of dark blue Converse and a voice in his head admitted that it was a strange situation. They were wearing the same shoes. She had long black hair that sprang from her head in perfect waves. The hair was falling over the left side of her face like a long black curtain and she had tucked the hair on the right side of her face behind her ear. 

When he saw her face, he saw that she wasn't striking as some girls he knew. She wasn't what he would call hot.  After a while though, he could see that some of her features when taken separately, were quite perfect. She had high cheekbones and tanned, glowing skin. Her dark, sooty lashes were long and she had a subtle hint of a dimple. He then noticed that she was restless and made up his mind to ask her what was wrong. 

"Hey are you okay?" he asked her.

She turned to look at him, her eyes full of surprise. "Hey.. umm.. yeah.. Just kind of nervous" she replied with a small smile.

"But why? I mean if you're confident and if you know you want to do this.." his voice trailed off.

"I know I want to do this.. but I don't know. I really badly want to get in" she said worriedly.

"Okay.. Tell me why. Tell me why you like drama" he inquired.

She smiled and suddenly she seemed to relax. "Oh I love being on stage! It's like.. a canvas. And it's up to the actor to splash paint and turn it into a work of art. His or her masterpiece. I love you connect with a role and then you become the role in your acting. On stage you tend to think of what is going through your role's mind in the situation, how would your role react. And the rush of it all! It's so magical! The stage is a page to let go of all your inhibitions and fly. It's literally like flying. You let lose of all your insecurities and thoughts as to what others might be think and you completely let go and you lose yourself in your character. And more than that, I am so happy when I am on stage, I feel like I can do anything. I don't feel scared" she said. "I should stop talking now" she added and he smiled.

"You just stated that you don't feel scared. So why be nervous? It's like you said isn't it? Be your role. I'm sure you'll get in.." he replied. 

"I hope-" she began to say, but her sentence was cut off in mid sentence when a voice called her name.

"Oh I have to go!" she said, standing up and dropping all her books to the floor. "Oh no!" she cried. 

"I'll help" he said, picking up her books for her. They both stood up together and when he handed her the books, he looked in her eyes and he had a funny notion. He gulped. 

"Thank you so much" she said, walking away.

I hope I see you around he thought, watching her walk away from him.

He was brought back to earth when she squeezed his hand and they both sat down on a familiar driveway of a well known road. She rested her head against him, on his strong shoulder. Her red Converse laces were tangled with his black ones. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her sweet smelling head, burying his face in her apple scented tresses. Her dark brown eyes found his deep hazel ones and they held the gaze, their laces tangled up and they hearts and lives tangled up around each other.  His large warm hand found the line of her jaw and he stroked it, admiring her simple beauty. His hand traveled down to her delicate neck and there he felt her heart beat thrumming against his finger. Suddenly his head was filled with a memorable song. 

You're my survival, you're my living proof that my love is alive, not dead.

Just she leaned in to meet his lips with hers, the first drops of seasonal rain hit them and the kiss was forgotten for the moment. They both loved the rain. He stood up, dragging her up with him and they walked to the middle of the lonely leaf strewn street. As they held hands facing each other and looked up to the sky, the heavens broke and the rain came down, pelting gently down their faces. He held her to him and his arms locked around her waist. He kissed her gently and then slightly more urgently and she was honey and strawberries as she melted against him, into her, the spark that ignited turning into fire and seeping through them like glorious, hot molten lava. She tasted of honey and strawberry and it was intermingled with the taste of the raindrops fallling on them. 

The kiss broke apart and he rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her to him. Slowly, they began to sway.  He was dancing in the rain with her. His hand curled in her damp, fragrant hair as their Converse sloshed, drinking up the rain water. The flowers turned their brightly colored heads to the oncoming rain and bathed in the rain. They swayed in place, their damp clothes clinging on to their skin, but they were not cold. He held her as they swayed in time, an eternal melody in their hearts as the rain continued to pour.

I'll be the greatest fan of your life