Meeting the relics

The month of late monsoon, it was always the most beautiful of words, Mircea would always feel, evoking, orange-flowers, swallows and regret. She sat by the window with Urban-watching the change in the sky, clouds passing by just like any stranger on the busy streets of a market. 

Mircea was sitting on Urban's lap-he had engulfed her in a hug from the back. She had felt chambered-the moment had been frozen for eternity and it was warm till the end. It was as if she was in a placid dream. She made sure to enjoy every moment of it. 

"What are you thinking about?" Urban asked, adjusting his head above hers.