Nothing was brighter than the light on our faces as we snuck through the dim of the villa. The wooden planked floors creaked occasionally, but they were muted by the churn of waves that pulled one another from below. There was no sun, just a moon, a brilliant, white moon that made everything around us glow. There were no lights either, just candles and lamps, and these too weren’t red or orange or yellow, but blue. And so were the curtains, blue, and glowing; Reflective of the luminous sparkles in the waters and the slow and glow of jellyfishes amongst it. I could feel your cheeky grin as I carried you on my back— the thrill was exhilarating but the villa was sparse. People were asleep, we noticed that while we jumped from cushion to cushion, searching instead for our own. Occasionally some are stirring, and others would roam, but neither would bother us anyway. Until we chanced upon an empty bed, I never noticed how cold it was, with the oceanic winds swaying through our stilted abode. But by then, we were already under blankets, skin to skin, with nothing on us but the warmth on our bodies. Our hands would play and see where they went; sometimes to each other, other times to wherever desires brought them. And we both laughed to ourselves, not knowing how to differentiate what our eyes focused on and what our hands felt; whether it was a cute butt or a buttoned nose; but none of it mattered because they felt nice, whatever they were, and so did we. Nothing ever felt softer than you did, and nothing ever felt more fragile than nudity itself; and I found the urge to shield that fragility from anything else. I looked at the glow of your skin, shining under that tone of blue by the glitter of the curtains, and the winds turned to nothing but warmth as distance between us reduced to zero. And for an infinite time at an eternal place, blue was indeed, the warmest colour.
