The prince in red

There he came, ascending the stairs. Her heart was pounding as she saw the most handsome boy in the world, barely eighteen, in his red shirt and black jeans. His eyes were enhanced by a pair of sunglasses; his hands by a watch his beloved aunt gifted him. He looked so young and charming, she had an immediate urge to kiss him, but she resisted. She felt embarrassed; she had dressed too informally today. She looked so mediocre in front of him.

He followed her till the cafe. They sat opposite each other. She could not take her eyes off him. At times, she marvelled at her own choice; more so, at his choice. How did he choose a mediocre girl like her? Yes, she was talented and outspoken, but she was not so beautiful. He was a prince charming; his looks getting better and better year after year. He had a magnetic personality.

He held her hand. She kissed his fingers. He kissed hers too. They kept talking and chuckling. He was so naughty, she could barely resist him. She fell in love with him every time she met him. He looked like an angel and angels are not supposed to be judged. They are supposed to be believed in and loved. She loved him like someone loves an angel. He was not far or near, he was omnipresent in her memories, eyes and her heart.

He kept kissing her till he went. She wanted it to last forever. She kept staring till he went.

After he went, she wondered- had it been a dream? It could only be one. Princes aren’t real, are they? He was too sacred to be real.


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