Someone sat right next to me and I was so concentrated looking at the moving sphere that I didn’t pay much attention. But then I saw him. Him. Staring through me. I caught his eyes scanning my body. Moving through my curves. Looking curiously at the inside of my wrists, at the thin layer of naked skin that showed in my tummy, above my skirt and just below my shirt. And then I was aware that he looked at me the same way I looked at him.
His eyes reached my chest, my neck and my lips. He stopped. He gently scratched the back of his neck and his lips slowly formed a vague smile, the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The smile became a bit of a lip. And I was consumed.
Then he looked at the details in my indian mask, and ended in my hazel eyes. I saw his eyes like the windows to his soul, and while he stared at me, I could be a part of him.
He moved closer. Closer. Until he was so close I could feel his breath in my neck. He raised his hand and delicately touched my hair, brushed my face. He laced his fingers through mine. Then, I knew he would kiss me. I waited. But he didn’t.
And as I was the one who wore the pants, I pulled him down into me. Pressed my lips deeply against his, which were loose with astonishment and shock. I kissed him like I have never kissed anyone. The warmth of his lips sent a current through me. And I lost myself in his peppermint breath and smooth lips.
He didn’t move. His lips weren’t moving.
Alarmed, I snapped back. I had pushed him too quickly.
“I-I amsosorry. I shouldn't have— ” I stuttered.
He slowly ringed my waist with his hands. Pushed me closer. He looked straight into me, his eyes were almond-shaped, painfully beautiful.
His reply was shy. Sincere. “I love you”. And then it hit me that that, —that— was falling in love.
