Gently | 300 Words Exactly

Staring at her was like staring into the sun. From the moment I met her, I could feel the warmth of her passion—for music and poetry, for helping others, for living a full life—spill out of her and alight on the world around her.

It was hard to see her flit from person to person, hoping to find someone to match her fire. As excited as they all were to first meet her warmth, each would turn away, for who can live close and stare into the sun? The disappointment hid well upon her face, but it was still there. Yet, she never let it stop her for long. She let herself feel it for a moment, and then she moved on and rekindled her fire.

She came to me, and to be honest, I almost had the same reaction as the others. I am cautious, cool as the moon in comparison to her, so I feared getting too close lest I be burned. The first few times we enjoyed each other's bodies were passionate, ravenous, just as I expected. But then, as her fire grew, she surprised me.

One night, she lay in my bed, ready to sleep and not do anything too reckless with me, bless our fragile hearts! But she turned over and kissed me, deeply this time. It was as passionate as always, yet somehow reserved. I wasn't sure how to take this change in dynamic. I tried to draw from our previous nights of passion together, but her strong hand on my chest urged me toward patience.

Who could have thought the sun, with all her fire and power, capable of gently kissing the moon's cool skin, allowing it to glow? Strength is also gentle: capable of letting others glow without burning them.