Drabbl
Hobies eyes seemed like a vast sky that had made him its home. They were warm and comforting, soft and alluring. The slightest sparkle of his eyes could encapsulate and squeeze a person until their last breaths.
It was something that Arabella could never get enough of. Especially laying in bed and just staring at them. She liked to think Hobies eyes were what love felt like in all its shapes and forms. His passion was warm, dark, and gentle.
His love felt like the downfall of everything terrible in the world. And his eyes were just something that someone could live in. Hobie drenched Arabella with all kinds of love, the love where it was cold and icy. But also the love that would make the sun shine and melt everything. His love came in waves. Each wave is different, but all are overwhelmingly strong.
At least, that's how Arabella saw it. With her arms wrapped over his chest, looking up at him as he stared aimlessly off into the distance and their legs coiled around each other.
"What do you think love is?" Arabella asked, breaking Hobie out of his mindful trance.
"Hmm…metaphorically speaking?" He asked, one hand under his head as the other wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing them together.
"Hm…surprise me?" She asked, creating circles against his skin.
"Well…to put it painfully simple. Love is…the opposite of—the antithesis of capitalism," Arabella stared at him, folding her arms on his chest and setting her chin on them.
"Capitalism is…selfish. Inequal. It strives to destroy the minority and raise the higher class. It is something that those kinds of people cannot experience to its true potential," He paused, rubbing his thumb against her shoulder.
"Love is something that is not just within us. It's something we create. Something more than just an experience; love is…selfless. It defeats the point of what capitalism is," Arabella couldn't help but smile against him, a soft hum escaping her.
"Love is something that cannot be programmed. It's not something that can be…immediate. It's slow, caring. Thoughtful. Love doesn't strive for popularity, money, or to be the greatest at one thing or another; love can also be small. Simple. Delicate," Hobie sighed, feeling that he was talking a whole bunch for what was a simple question.
He turned his head to her, opening his mouth to apologize. But as he went to—he couldn't. Not with the way she was looking at him. He licked his lips, hugging her closer.
"Love is that," He chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Your eyes, the way they look at me…that's what I think love is when its simple,"
"Love cannot be copied and pasted. Love is chaos and destruction. Love is exhausting, but I’m never exhausted. Love is…Hobie Brown. Love is how Hobie Brown looks at me," Arabella chimed in, pressing her palms against his cheeks and taking a deep breath. She pressed her lips to his with her eyes closed.
Hobie had no objections to her, kissing her with the same fervor. Hobie took her hand and laced his fingers with her. He couldn't imagine a world without her, without love. His love may have been something capitalism couldn't dare touch, but her love was everything combined, from how the sands of time moved to the ocean breeze that cooled him down.
Hobie and Arabella's love will one day break the world—but they could care less.