It was a lazy Sunday afternoon for him until the doorbell rang. She had returned from an hour long shopping; it was a shopping of a different kind though.
She walked straight to the bedroom; he followed her.
She plucked the lower end of the shopping bag and toppled it on the study table at one go.
A volcano erupted.
Variegated ribbons, stapler, glue stick, multicolored chart papers, lemon sized transparent packs of shiny sparkles, a box of sketch pens, fluorescent markers, one foot scale, a retractable paper cutter and a pair of cute pink scissors spread like an army and seized the entire table.
“What do you think?” she proudly asked.
“Isn’t this too much?” he answered with another question.
“I don’t think so. The annual Creativity Fest at my office is on next Monday. And this year, I am not going to end up on second spot like last year. It has to be perfect. No compromise! Now if you’d excuse me?” she said as she tied up her hair and pulled the chair.
He, happily, made way for her for the fear of being run over by the juggernaut of creativity; he went back to reading the book in the bed.
Fifteen minutes later, as he glanced up from his book, he observed her, deeply involved with cutting-sparkling-pasting while her tongue peeked a little through her lips; that was her mark of supreme focus. Her hair had loosened a bit but not her spirit.
He spotted a piece of red chart paper glued to her cheek which she was, apparently, unaware of.
He went up to her and picked up a black sketch pen.
To her surprise, he held her face and wrote something on the paper stuck on her cheek.
“Oops!!” she realized and got rid of the paper.
Before anything else, he kissed her on cheek.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
He, innocently, pointed at the piece of paper in her hand. She looked at the paper to see what he had written on it.
‘Kiss me here!’ it read.
He smiled. She blushed.
Photo Credit: Unsplash