She thought of him.. She thought of the various shades his eyes gleamed, reflecting her dupatta, as they met hers, myriad colours - especially white. His laughter, the child-like and cuteish one, that which made her wonder why she'd fallen in love with a boy. His quietness, and the times she wished he'd stopped for a breath.
Her mind raced through the fervency with which they fought, if fights were kisses they might have nipped each other a few times, seen a dozen hickeys or so.
She thought of him as she walked the rains.. sometimes as she bought a coffee at their favourite joint. Shirts at his favourite shops whispered his name - those pale blues yellows, checks, stripes everything under the sun - he looked ripping hot to her in everything, and in nothing. She thought of the hundred and twenty ways he kissed her without using his hands, and with.
She thought of everything but their future, as there was none.