He bends down to whisper something in my ear. I hear nothing. The exhalation of warm air, mingled with an intoxicating fragrance, brushes down on my neck and catapults a current through my body, powerful enough to consume me. His eyes dance in the paling light, so luminous in contrast. They pull me closer. Closer I come.
He chatters away. I hear. I listen to nothing. My eyes run through his hair, my mind kisses his lips, which speak, knowing not how much they are desired.
I sit on the pavement, barely conscious of my fingertips sailing softly on the skin of my arm. My feet want to tread towards him, my fingers want to clutch his untamed hair, my chin wants to get bruised by the unkempt stubble.
I rise. His eyes follow. In an instant they read my body. He knows.
My ears ring aloud, the pace at which my heart runs is scary. He knows. What do I do now? What if I lose my mind if he touches me? What if I can never be another’s if this boy before me metamorphoses into a man and leaves his footprint on my spirit, binding me to himself forever?
Now his eyes are hungry, I know from the way his silhouette has frozen, those luminous bulbs marking my every crevice, every curve, every gesture. Desire never yelled out so loud before.
We lie in the stillness, his touch still reverberating through me, the smell of his mouth fresh in my memory. His locks sleep on his forehead, just as he does in my arms. His warm breath sweeps on my neck, but this time it feels different. My swollen lips twitch into a smile. The man has become a boy again.