He had her pressed between his body and the railing of the ferry’s lower deck. The winds of the Bosphorus caught her dark hair and flicked it into her face and he gently pushed it behind her ears and kissed her. They were oblivious to all around them. Istanbul’s skyline receding into the haze of a summery afternoon, the seagulls diving and soaring in the wake of the ferry, the chatter and press of a hundred passengers. At times all you could see of her was her arm around his waist or her hand on the back of his neck. She was tiny and he was tall and broad. He engulfed her. She looked up at him shyly and he slipped his hands under the sleeves of her white dress so they were touching her skin. The warmth of them against the coolness of her back. He nuzzled her neck and her almond eyes closed, lost in the moment.
Later, he left her for a little while, to buy water and freshly baked simit for them both.
Oh how her heart ached for his return.