My fingers delicately trace the outline of his back. He groans in displeasure and turns to face me. I can smell the sweet cologne he wears, and with every breath he takes, I feel his body rise and fall. As his breathing slows down, I lose the pattern of it. Every feel I take only sparks a connection one can only dream of. A small spark that makes one melt into another's arms. It's difficult to describe the warm rush that comes every time I hear his soft voice. I stare at his face and take in every detail within. His eyes are gently closed, his lashes are long, and my hands can not help but feel the sides of his face. The warmth his body carries puts me into a deep slumber. My hand reaches his shoulders, then rubs against his arm. His warm-toned skin that can only darken makes my heart flutter like a caterpillar flourishing out of its cocoon. He groans again, but only this time a little bit louder. “What are you doing?” My hand freezes, and I can only help but stare; his voice is as mesmerizing as his face. I shrug and touch his hair. He slightly flinches because he is not familiar with the feeling. He grabs my hand and stares at me firmly. I know what he’s thinking. What we’re both thinking. He says, “We should stop.” I nod and get up. As I reach for my belongings, I turn around. “I’ll text you later,” I said shyly. He only nods back with a guilty look.
