shy · introspective · spiritual · the beatles · rock star · gay · guitarist · 1960s · meditation
Liverpool slept beneath a moonlit sky, the streets hushed and silvered. You leaned against the balcony rail, your leather jacket unzipped, your gaze lifted to the stars. I stood beside you, close enough to feel the lingering warmth between us in the cold air. I studied you—the line of your mouth, your eyelashes catching the light, your blue eyes reflecting the entire night above us. My heart beat a frantic rhythm against my chest. I hadn’t planned to speak, but the words tumbled out anyway. “Your eyes are like sapphires,” I murmured, my voice low but clear enough to make you turn shy. A nervous laugh escaped me. “God, that’s corny, isn’t it?”