Love Stories @ RomanceClass -|
Sitting, with him by my side.
Nervousness. Excitement. Tingles. Every cell wondering.
He likes me. I like him. We're close.
Not touching. Not yet.
Do I- do I dare? Do I dare reach out and touch him?
More nervousness. Still wondering.
My hand- slender, clean, long-fingered, cool, pale white.
His hand- rough, large, red, clean, warm.
Opposites, somehow attracted.
I wonder once more- dare I?
My hand, reaching out, suspended in air.
His hand, suspended above mine.
One moment of hovering- an intricate hesitation.
Then our hands- not mine anymore, nor his.
Held close. Ice and fire setting aside differences.
And moving onwards- together.
Yes, holding hands is an explosion of emotions.
It destroys the me. And it breaks apart the he.
Leaving only...why, only us.
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