4.6. Moon's daze
628 Words
Staring down at your hand over my wrist dragging me somewhere, I let you lead our way as I didn't mind tagging along.
Aster your hand is warm against my skin, it feels as though I'm burning at this touch, from the inside out through each part of my body—your smile knocks me off my feet, can't seem to balance or think as I ask like a fool drunk on alcohol.
But my alcohol is you—drunk on you—unable to balance on my two feet, your force being too strong.
Do you feel this, can you feel it? Or perhaps I'm reading invisible ink between the lines only my eyes can see. These hand full of interactions that are few than six in number couldn't insinuate anything greater than familiarity of a new found bond, that I won't label as friendship.
I'm infatuated, I'd like to say—though my gaze studies you each time, taking note of something a person, a friend, wouldn't be so interested in knowing—neither would they notice them all.
I do, surprisingly it is so easy to steal glances, I could call it a hobby. What isn't so easy for me as for you is physical touch, I'm finding it difficult to even offer you a hug when I wished I gave one—you don't stumbled or overthink it, I'd like to believe.
But Aster, I've been studying you, I've been stealing glances and you are just as nervous as I am—the line doesn't know where to be drawn neither does it want to exist.
A push and pull? No it's a flow heading one direction as it's only one place this—all of the pulling—could lead.
A soft gasp leaves my lips as you place your hand on my waist, the touch actually goes through two layers of clothing making my skin feel warm. Staring into your eyes, I might just fall down this floor—Aster you're too close, too familiar with me.
We're the same height, your eyes are easily staring into my soul without the need for either of us to lift our heads or lower our gaze.
I'm looking at these two beauty marks I've come to know, curious if there were any more over your body—and would you let me trace around them, plant a kiss or two on them.
Wait! I'm getting ahead of myself, I'm blabbering nonsense.
I think I have a crush on you, it doesn't seem to want to fade regardless of the speed it came by—a fondness that swells up my chest whenever you, Aster, are around.
Drunk dazed
Mesmerized
Thrown off the principal and values I carried in previous situations like these, exhaustion and boredom replaced with excitement and uncertainty pulling each fibre of my being.
Let's see, I stare down at the phone reading the text, trying to as your fingers around your phone made me wish that was me—shaking my thoughts off again as you stare at me waiting a response, I finally let my mind focus on the words.
'Be my interpreter.'
"Yes." I said staring at you, my hands interlocked unaware what to do. Interpretation wasn't something I hated because I could learn more, and well if it got you that precious smile you could use me as much as you'd like, for my skills or time.
Aster
These feelings
The way I noticed the absence of your touch, like a chuck of my heart falling off. This rushing notion—these are feelings.
Silent as snow, heavy as rain—reviving as spring, as sweet as you.
They're us—they're just beginning, that's what it is.
- Writer
