And he didn’t care that they were in the middle of the mosh pit, with people banging their heads everywhere, their sweat flying off in droplets of rain, that the music was so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, that it stank of fart and cigarette smoke, that he was all sweaty with his hair plastered to his forehead and she had her shirt sticking to her back like second skin; he didn’t care that everyone was screaming at the stage as their favourite band brought the house down, because a moment later he had his hands around her face and he was kissing her, cupping her cheeks with the crowd roaring around them and everything just melted away. There was only her and her lips. And god, she was so beautiful.

Note: A random paragraph. I got this idea from something a friend of mine mentioned , about how he once randomly kissed a girl at a rock concert. I think I should add that to the list of criteria for guys i would marry.  hah.