We sat there, in what looked like a restaurant booth, side by side. I don't know who we were with, but it didn't matter. I was only focused on you.
The strange tension I've felt between us recently was present, everything felt the way I wish it wouldn't. I wanted to go back to the flirty touching and joke making and, I guess you could say, hopefulness of the future.
For whatever reason, you grew increasingly frustrated, and began to drop your head down in the space between us, like I've seen you do many times before.
I don't know where my sudden reckless attitude came from, or why my actions took over before my mind could react. Why my fear of rejection shadowed in my need for affection, but I gently reached over to you, raw and fearful of your reaction, and simply stroked a piece of your hair.
Your reaction filled my body with fire works as you shifted, and slowly lowered your head towards my body, laying it in my lap, ultimately accepting my desire of contact with you. We've sat in this position before, meaninglessly as it goes, but it never made me feel this way.
My newfound confidence led me to continuously stroke your hair, gently pulling at ends and brushing limp pieces away from your face.
Neither of us said a thing, but the atmosphere was so comforting and so calming. I felt happy and almost safe. We stayed like this for a long time until my surroundings began to morph and I was back in the darkness of my bedroom in the early morning.
It was a dream, but it reminded me of how much I wish you were mine.
YOU ARE READING
Crushing Love.
Storie d'amore- Time slowed when I looked at him. His hair was a black mess of curls on his head. His eyebrows were dark and arched, his lips full. His jawline could cut. The instant I saw him, my heart bounced outside my chest. It's an understatement to say my i...
