She should be home, sleeping or doing some last-minute researching or repacking her bag because there’s no way she got everything she needs in the duffel she sent ahead yesterday.
She should be doing anything but tracking down his address.
She should be doing anything but standing at Frank’s apartment door.
But here she finds herself, desperate to see him, needing him to know she’s leaving, needing him to know where she’ll be. Needing. So desperately needing.
The door opens, and suddenly he’s there. She doesn’t even know what she tells him about her trip. The worlds tumble out without her thinking about them at all. She is too focused on him, scanning his face for changes, taking in the way he moves and holds himself. And then the supposed reason she came here is over, and she’s left hesitating in his doorway as he’s looking down at her, standing so close she can’t think of anything at all.
She’s waiting for him, desperately waiting for him to close the gap.
Her hand has found its way to his chest, and slowly she uses it to prop herself up higher against him until their lips line up.. She allows herself to lift her other hand up to his neck, her face hovering even closer to his, pulled in by his orbit. But she won’t allow herself to go any closer. She wants to know that he wants this. That he chooses her…
She waits, her breath shallow, eyes closed, standing on a precipice, wanting to jump.
She could swear he’s leaning in, she can feel his breath warm against her cheek, coming as quickly as hers is. But her lips remain untouched. The empty air is a painful absence.
She opens her eyes slightly, trying to look into his, trying to spot even the faintest hint of his thoughts in their darkness. But she’s too close to him. Always too close but never close enough.
After another agonizing moment, she sighs in defeat, a heaving breath that weighs her whole body down. Her feet flatten from where she had risen on her toes, and slowly she pulls her hands back, extricating herself from him in the only way she can.
“Goodbye, Frank,” she says, after taking a step back. His eyes meet hers now, his pupils blown wide as he stares at her with that look that is both wild and soft. And yet still contained. Still careful. Too damn careful.
“Goodbye, Karen.”
She turns around before he finishes saying her name. A little embarrassed, a little frustrated, a little heartbroken.
Down the hall she jams the down button on the elevator, hears the old thing whirr and groan its way to his floor before it dings open.
The noise wakes him from a trance of good intentions and undesired restraint.
Karen steps into the small space and stares at its back wall with a shaky hand raised to her lips, waiting to turn until she hears the doors start to close. She doesn’t know what she had been hoping for from this farewell, but she knows she didn’t get it.
And then, just as the doors are coming together, a hand slams between them with a bang, sending them recoiling back open.
Frank steps heavily into the elevator, slapping the emergency stop button as he does. And then he stills. His eyes are still wide and wild, focusing in on her, but this time there’s a greater openness to them than she’s ever seen before. He steps toward her gently, his hand rising slowly, a single finger lifting the strap of her bag and dropping it on the ground. He cups her face in both hands, and for a moment simply stares at her. When he does move again, it’s slow, intentional, as he leans in and presses his lips to her forehead. He follows the line of her nose to press a soft kiss and its tip. And then, finally, finally, his lips find hers.
She’s enveloped in the tenderness of him, his mouth soft and warm against hers. He holds them there, both of them sinking into the sensation before deepening the kiss, and all at once he crashes like a wave over her senses. Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling herself into him as he pushes up against her. They melt together, lost in each other.
