Undone

"Wait."

Her hand shot out and caught his wrist just as he was about to open the door.

He looked at her but her eyes were fixed at a point behind him. Still holding his wrist, she took a step forward, closing the gap between them. Slowly, deliberately, her other hand reached for the lock under the knob, and turned it.

The sound is something he remembers with distinct clarity to this day.

As he watched her, an unseen strand of electricity began to weave itself around them, gaining charge with every passing second.

They stood in her hallway, close enough to breathe each other's air. She wasn't looking at him, but at the hand she'd captured and now cradled palm-up in hers. Her brows were  furrowed in concentration, like she was trying to divine something... solve something in her head.

He kept silent and waited patiently, fighting to stay above the noise thundering in his chest.

Then she raised her head to meet his gaze.

She bore the look of someone who's finally arrived at an answer to a question, as if a knot she's been working on has come undone at last. And as he looked in her eyes, she allowed him to see everything. Surrender. Trust.

Permission.

It hit him like a punch in the gut. For a moment he literally felt robbed of air until he realized he just forgot to breathe. Too many thoughts began shouting for space in his mind.

But he had will enough to pick the loudest, and the most important.

He turned his hand over on her palm and let his fingers graze hers slowly, gently.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly.

She watched that hand as it stayed a breath above hers. It was large, heavy and can engulf her own  easily. Which it has, of course, many times, in a grip that always made her feel precious, safe and found.

But right then, that hand was...hesitant. It touched her fingertips lightly, drawing lines on her palm without goal or agenda. His hand moved the way he always has, determined not to exert even the tiniest bit of pressure. And she knew it was waiting for her to ease the strain of its uncertainty in a display of caution so sweet, something melted inside her.

Then she bit back a grin.  And here she thought locking the door would be enough of a signal.

How could she not yield to him?

She turned her palm over, took that seeking hand, laced their fingers and held it tight. Then she raised her other hand to cup his face, rose up slightly on her toes and unerringly brushed her lips against his.

It was soft as air, light as a feather, and landed like a 2-ton anchor in his heart.

She slid her hand to his neck, her thumb rubbing that spot just a line below his jaw. He looked so calm, she thought, so controlled.

Then, while he looked at her, she saw a tiny muscle in his jaw flinch.

Curious, she moved her hand down from his neck, to land squarely on top of his heart.

She tilted her head a little to the side.
Hm. Not so controlled after all.

He stood frozen as he watched her put her ear against his chest. He knew what she heard. He wouldn't be surprised if her neighbors did too.

A small smile played on her lips as she looked up at him. It felt a little relieved, that smile, and also ... delicious, and maybe just a tiny bit wicked.