(@ Subic-Clark-Tarlac Expressway, Philippines)

I was browsing through my archives earlier and found some photos I took months ago. I guess I’m always going to be a sucker for black and white photos. Always.
Gasping for air, you said, “fifteen minutes.”
You’d lay on my chest, eyes closed, lips pressed between the patches of hair surrounding my pecks. You breathe quietly, the warm air pushed forth from your lungs that would brush softly across my skin. My hands would caress your back, as I pull you closer to me. A deep breath would pass from between my teeth and you would momentarily awaken; eyelids fluttering open while you study my jawline then tracing my lips. A smile would then form across your face as you stare at me, your eyes half-opened, taking me back: back to that time where I first said those three words, back to when we were both exhausted from the day that you chose to fall asleep on my lap as I try to shift as smoothly and effortlessly as possible so as not to wake you, back to the time when we were just starting to date in a coffee shop as I shyly lay my head upon your shoulder.
Your slight head movement would snap me from my reminiscence, as you studied my calm face. My eyes and hands would trace the cheekbones forming your smile and I would lean my head forward to kiss you. I’d pull the blanket tighter around us, watch as we both become apparent underneath the white sheets and once again you’d kiss my chest and snuggle tightly against it. Dropping my head back, our breaths started to rise and fall again.
Then I too would close my eyes and smile, drifting off to sleep. In my dreams I’d see the horizon, the sun painting the sky with colors as the light starts to stream through the windows.
And then I’d awaken, shifting slightly then smiling upon realizing you were still on my chest. The sheets had shifted, waves of cotton splashing around our bodies.
And then the alarm clock rang.
Patricia Co’s 18th Vogue-themed birthday.
(@ The Tents, Alphaland Southgate Tower, Makati)