My most cherished memories would be my trip to Peru and Bolivia.
To be even more specific, it would be the day after the parade/festivities involving ink and foam, which was covering the streets.
My husband, who at the time, was just a friend came to the hostel to meet up with me. In Peru, we traveled together, but after two weeks, we went our own ways. While being in Bolivia, he came that way, and we met up a few times when I was traveling.
So he came to the hostel I was staying at, he couldn’t find what room I was in, because he didn’t recongize me. I was covered head to toe in purple and blue dye. The night before I was doused in ink, but since I was doing it back, it was expected.
Back to reality, my head pounded relentlessly. That Swedish boy coaxed me to go into the swimming pool, with a push. Then he jumped in after me and began scrubbing my ink infested body. About a half an hour passed, and I was clean as I could be. My head was still persistantly banging, and my energy was lost.
So we cuddled on my bed. I gave him my phone with a Thor game on it, his weakness, I found. Now at this time, he being a busy body, didn’t like staying in one place for a long time. But he did it this time.
As I had my head resting on his firm chest, I could hear his heart thump a steady beat. Then and there, I was washed over with a feeling of safety and comfort. Sleep soon took over me wiht the tune of his heart