Humidity cushioned their sunset movements. Emiline sensed it, always, in the dense Jamaican air.
“I feel like something’s pressing on my arms and legs,” Mark said, though with a smile.
Emiline answered with her own, with a light hand pulling wisps of beach-blown blonde from her eyes. Their aimless ambling soon led them within the resort gardens.
Each breathed deeply in. Clusters of pinkish blossoms blushed boldly against darker green. Snow-white Oleander winked from wall bushes. Their gaze drew skyward to admire a riot of orange.
“Nature’s bouquet,” she whispered. Speechless, he followed her through a tropic twilight.
So descriptive! I’d say it’s like being there but I think they want to be alone.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You can walk through once they’re done. 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
So lush! Taken by this never-before-paired set of words: “beach-blown blonde”.
LikeLiked by 2 people
🙂 They came as I pictured the couple, so that means Emiline made the phrase.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Love when our characters take up the writing task! 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
A bouquet as lush as a tropical sunset. Vivid writing, Chelsea!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person