Stood Speechless

prologue

His fingertips made a trail down my back like a soft summer wind on a bright monday morning. His voice deep, raspy, but gentle. Each touch leaves me with shivers I never thought I could really have. The feeling is the same, yet always feels new. Fully awakening from my slumber, I place the gentlest kiss on his perfect lips. In the kitchen, the smell of maple and bacon fills the air. If I could live like this everyday I would, with him. I never liked routine, yet this one is my favorite, and while we've only known each other for a month, however, I've soulfully known him an eternity. Arranging his plate, then one of my own, I gulp down my food and head out the door. Parting with him is such misery. I forever await the hour tonight in which we both get out of class. The crisp air hits my face with the smell of the city. Most would complain about city life, but frankly, I enjoy it. Waltzing down the street feels almost cinematic until im rudely shoulder checked, waking me from my prolonged daydream.

"Hey! Watch where you're going sir!" I spit with no waver in my tone.

"Sorry love, didn't mean to crinkle your blouse," the man fires back. I almost don't notice the sarcastic tone until he rolls his eyes, but only because of the familiarity of his British accent, which threw me a slight curve.

"Well maybe if someone walked on the correct side of the pavement, there wouldn't be a problem!" I retaliate with a hint of annoyance, but mostly just playfulness in my tone.

"You're that girl that Ezra always has around, aren't you," he asks and I nod, still focused on his emerald eyes as he speaks, which seem like they behold millions of stories, but are guarded by something I just can't put a finger on, "Well, pardon my behavior, the names Asher," I suddenly snap out of it as the brown-haired boy offers his hand.

Smiling a bit, I accept the miniscule embrace "I'm Skye!" I exclaim, sweeping the strands of hair in my face behind my ear just as the boy points to the sky, smirking at me. It takes me a few seconds before I realize its a sarcastic maneuver, and giggle with as much of the same satire in my tone as possible. "Very funny!" Although seeming displeased, I certainly find him hilarious, but he would never get to know that.

"Well I'm glad you got it, love," he says, his dimples growing deep with the broadening of his smile. We stand awkwardly for a moment, staring into each other's eyes before he finally broke the gaze, "stop staring love, those medusa eyes may turn me to stone," he chuckles, and my eyes dart to the ground sheepishly. Catching on, I feel his index finger lift just under my jawline, "Chin up, Skye. See you around," and, with a wink, he wanders off, leaving me wondering why I want to follow.