They were like art, the way they moved together, living, breathing, glorious art that you could barely stand to witness and yet you could never tear your eyes away in their presence.
So fierce was their devotion and loyalty with their passion burning just as bright, you could be across a crowded room when they caught eyes and you felt it.
Time slowed like a thick molasses as their connection crackled and they spun a web around each other, catching those around them in it without even trying.
Bodies moving closer until it all snapped into place at the touch of their fingers, then their mouths. Damn, but were they art…in the purest form.
The kind of painting or sculpture brought to life most people see and ache at the sheer beauty of it, wish they were a part of it.
Sensual, hell downright sexual, they breathed each other’s air, bodies always touching, mouths seeking, paying no attention to those around them.
They never cared who witnessed their beauty. They weren’t putting on a show it was clear they only had eyes and thoughts for each other.
They just couldn’t help themselves, and when there’s art as beautiful as them in front of you, as bittersweet as it is at times, you simply can’t tear your eyes away from it.